Penance for Failure
by evinaadlene
Summary: At the end of the war Harry is forced to submit to Dark lord with terms which the dark side easily ar later Draco finds the boy who lived in the clutches of his father, as a war trophy. A story of love temptation friendship betrayal trust regret and real weight of things if the story took a different turn in HBP. AU/Dark/Angst/Rape - Will post warnings for M content.
1. What have you done now?

**Disclaimer****_:_**_**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. All copy writes received by the rightful owners.**_

**Title : Penance for Failure **

**Warning: This story contains angst, violence, and sexual situations. RATED N-17 **

**Pairing: Ron/ Hermione, Harry/ Hermione, Harry /Multiple**

**Summary: War hero turned a war trophy as the resistance fell. Draco Malfoy urges a bitter Ron & a pregnant Hermione to help him in an impossible quest of saving the saviour. But it won't be easy with everything falling to darkness in a twisted way. Angst/torture/M**

_Note: This is completely an AU from the 6__th__ book and I'm still borrowing ideas from J.K Rowling's Deathly Hallows. I'll mention them in time. The story is set three years after the Half blood prince in a world where Harry had surrendered to Voldemort and death eaters as a peace treaty between the ministry and the Dark regime. Draco Malfoy the newest icon in the wizarding world is to witness his onetime savior under the grasp of the death eater clan. _

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><p><strong><em>Damn!<em>**

Draco thought, stepping out of his potions lab wrapping his fingers around the left thumb as he walked along the passageway out of the dungeons. It was bleeding... Not severely though, just a two inch cut by his own bloody knife of the potions kit. It bled none the less.

His head gave an ache ... a painful scream of agony which crept his ears moments ago, thundered inside his head still... the scream which distracted him to clumsily cut his own thumb holding a bunch of roots he started cutting for his experimental sleeping draught. He had decided against healing it there and headed to his rooms.

He had heard enough of screams and cries from the prison chambers next to his potions lab in the dungeons before and he had learnt to ignore the torturous sounds... he swore again.

He had thrived with so much of changes in the new regime of the Dark lord... but torture was certainly not one of them...

He heard footsteps behind, light and skidding. He knew without looking that it was his father...

'Draco..' Malfoy senior was an unreadable man... the perfection ruled around his aura often humiliated the people around him. Draco remembered the feeling too well. When younger he wanted nothing but to please the man. Yet with time and set of tide turns his concerns had gone elsewhere, finding his own way of things... his own perfections. Now at times he felt it was that his father who searched his endorsements in his own way...

'Father'

Draco turned and acknowledged his father with a slight nod. Their relationship was never a close one.

'you were in the potions lab?' Lucius asked eying the bloody drops leaking from Draco's grip...but asked nothing.

'yes... mothers stock of sleep draughts is down.. She asked me to fill in'

'I see... you don't need to bother yourself. I will send an order to Severus... his stocks are never out with the best'

' no need ... it's almost done. I enjoy the mixings father' Draco said matter of fact almost turning to go. His head was hurting.

'You always preferred involvement Draco.' Lucius sniggered.

' You know you can do other stuff in dungeons to ease yourself a bit' Lucius had a thin smile in his face ... his eyes observant.

Draco turned to look at his father. It had not been the first time his father hinted Draco's lack of interest on the prisoners in their dungeon lockups. Draco knew it amused his father in a twisted way, to believe that his only heir believed himself to be superior enough to ignore the mere presence of the traitors to their new found regime of pure wizards.

Draco lined his brow. 'I would rather bore my head to death.. you know' he started to walk away... he heard Lucius turn back in to the passage in dungeons... with a amused chuckle... Draco started walking out. He did not change his pace until he stepped in to the marble stairway.

His usual way was to _apparate straight from his potions lab in lower dungeons to the personal suite, yet today he preferred walking up three floors up today... labouring his feet for a distraction. _

_House maids paused lowering their gazes as he passed them, making way for him. They weren't accustomed for him walking around, hence stilled as if almost startled to see him. And he was not accustomed to acquainting with any of them either. So he didn't worry to regard their presence. _

_Yet few who had eyes enough to look at his held hand, gazed back at his face, startled in seeing blood. Big deal for such a small cut... as if they had not seen blood on a Malfoy before... well not their own blood perhaps... but of course not on him. He might be one of the most unmarked and unscarred people alive today... he could just count the times he had been injured, being a Malfoy... well the only heir to the Malfoys... it is a fact that he need not scar .. Not in any way _

The first ever damaging physical injury he got was caused by Potter... Draco remembered of course. It was almost three years ago, when he and his family was threatened in honour and life. Whole lot of them had been in ill favour at the time, due to his father's failure with Dark lord. And his own hesitation in killing Dumbledore had not been in his favour either. Potter had struck him with a Sectumsempra in an abandoned bath room when he was wallowing in misery.

It was the most severe wound he ever got which left him with scars for life...

But later it had been _Potter _who had taken him under his wing, facing the daggers of his friends in the resistance, when Dark lord had started hunting _Draco_ for his weak heart and disobedience by failing to kill Dumbledore... how ironical

Why Potter helped him though... Draco didn't have a clue. He spent months with the company of a bunch of Gryffindors, aiding to fight against causes he first felt futile. He had no choice but to go on with the tide and walk along the only path he saw in front of him at the time... even though he was just pretending. But the radiance of their ideologies and passion in preserving them confused him. He could not understand the base of the cause they were fighting... to safeguard every life including wizards and muggles alike without any profit for their own.

He was also led to see a more different side to his once nemesis, the boy who lived, a more humane side filled with a determination to fulfil the burden the world had placed upon him. He was partly bemused with the restorative and resolute character of the boy who was even few months younger to him. Draco was beginning to doubt his stand in this whole scenario at the time...

Yet it all dramatically changed as Draco got his hands on the one object Voldemort would have cared in levels with the idea of exterminating the side of light. The one Pensive of the Hogwarts Head Master, Albus Dumbledore...

He had held the unique decision on choosing the side that wins the decade lasted wizardry war and used it as he saw fit... to the utter dismay of the resistance. He was a Slytherin of course. His family and name mattered to him more than anything.

All the plans all the facts and the one prophesy that mattered was handed to the one who held the power enough to ensure the existence and priority to the wizard community... plus his family's status as well.

In an instant he was the most trusted and most favoured of all who daggered icy knives at him. All claims against his existence dropped. He held now the most envied position for a young Death eater to be favoured by the lord himself. Almost all the wizarding world worshipped him now for the lasting peace and magic prioritized society... skip the countable numbers of heads in past resistance...

They loathed him ha! Can't blame them now could he?

Entering to the lime and white painted walls he pushed open his double doors. Walking straight to the equally eloquent bathroom he pulled the silver tap open to the white marble sink. He watched as soothing water ran on the bleeding cut for several minutes before putting a simple healing spell on the finger.

Clutching the white sink in both hands he gazed forth at the silver framed mirror with elegant engravings. Pale face with clear grey eyes gazed back at him. His casual white shirt stained in few places with potions ingredients and few drops of blood which might have spilled while coming up.

He looked tired, with drops of sweat running down the face. He sighed leaned forward, pressing his head to his own reflection, with an awkward sense of déjà-vu to a scene few years back in a bathroom.

And then his mind swam with scraps of images in recent bearing...

A pale thin figure with jet black hair lie curled in a corner of the dark cold prison chamber in a loose ball with knees drawn to the naked chest. The only thing covering the shivering body was a half torn trouser.

His hands were strapped together with a leather wire which had started to cut in to the skin making angry scars around the wrists. Far the worst his neck bore a collar like metal hoop which was chained to the wall drawing red cuts around the irritated flesh.

The chain was barely long enough to let the head rest on the ground dragging the head slightly up from the floor surly giving pains to the neck muscles. His eyes were closed in thick lashes bringing a much younger look to his agitated face.

He lay numb as a corpse on the cold dirty floor as if drained with all senses.

As Draco drew nearer with his lighted wand he could see that the whole body was battered, black and blue with angry patterns of scars and cuts.

The infamous scar on the forehead, re opened in a vicious red.

With the sound of Draco's steps Potter opened his eyes slowly...as if he could hear the slightest sound...

The pair of emerald eyes which no longer hid the utter vulnerability and wariness behind the round frames slowly turned towards Draco, unfocused and empty.

He didn't think Potter could recognize him in this manner.

Yet it was a strange look on Potter... without the glasses.

Draco had never seen him without them.

And he had never seen him like this... the once boy who lived.

His one time nemesis and one time saviour...

Once glistening emerald eyes were drained of its spark and bore a stoniness that was beyond the distress ... and an unnatural determination in a place like that.

Draco had dared to pause and look at those eyes which now he regretted doing

... because for over a week now he had not been able to forget them.

To make it to the worst he could not now ignore the fact that whenever he was hearing the painful cries, screams or gasps of distress in his potions lab, those eyes must be wrenching with torment.

And to his own distress Draco find it hard not to go in to the lab as well... just to know whether his once savoir was still breathing to live.

His recent memory of the battered body clashed pitilessly with moments in resistant headquarters where he sat side by side with the same person ... talking... just talking.

Damn... He was a Slytherin was he not?

...and a Malfoy... he should regret nothing...

What was he doing?

He straightened, looking at his reflection again. He looked tired. Damn! He swore to himself again and raked his hair up squeezing eyes shut.

_Has to be done_... he told himself.

He let the shower run. Going to his dressing chamber he took out his usual formal outfit, black buttoned shirt trousers and black boots. Getting a quick bath he dressed without delay. Gazing at his watch which indicated 4.30 pm, he apparated to one of his favourite places other than his suite in Manor, Pied à Terre.

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><p><em>End note: well that was the start. You will see Draco as witty and strong unlike the scared unsecured Draco in the books. Will see where it leads.<em>

_Do comment. I love any feedback. _


	2. Pied a Terre

**Disclaimer****_:_**_**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. All copy writes received by the rightful owners.**_

**Title : Penance for Failure **

**Warning: This story contains angst, violence, and sexual situations. RATED N-17 **

**Pairing: Ron/ Hermione, Harry/ Hermione, Harry /Multiple**

**Summary: War hero turned a war trophy as the resistance fell. Draco Malfoy urges a bitter Ron & a pregnant Hermione to help him in an impossible quest of saving the saviour. But it won't be easy with everything falling to darkness in a twisted way. Angst/torture/M**

_A / N: my second story in HP fandom. Story is set after half blood is completely an AU from there though I'm borrowing some ideas from J.K Rowling.. I'll mention them in time. _

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><p><strong><em>Pied à Terre<em>**was the most luxurious restaurant in whole of a Britain for the wizard elite community attained only by those who were eloquent enough in the society. Not even every pure blood family set foot in the place. The Malfoys had their own room received in there, often visited by family members for their personal relaxing or more confidential purposes.

Apparating to the exquisite apparation chamber, Draco nodded to the male receptionist dressed in rich purple tunic and a gold threaded hair dress. The receptionist bowed his head low. At the exit door he met the restaurant manager, who gazed at him with an answering nod to his questioning stare. Satisfied, Draco led his way to the rich velvet floor along the corridor which was familiar to him as same as his own room.

As the gold engraved rose wood door neared he slowed his pace. The gravity of his decision suddenly overwhelming him, he paused before the door for a moment of hesitation. But sudden flashes of a pair of emerald eyes with utter vulnerability and wariness and pale battered body with red welts pulled him forward.

Squeezing his eyes for a moment he pushed the door open and entered to an exquisite parlour of green and silver. The room was lightly lit. Its rich furniture glistened marking the slivery patterns embroidered in soothing velvet cushions. Heavy green curtains drown in corners set back drops to elegant glass ornaments.

Everything was perfection. Apart from the two figures standing in the middle of it dressed in washed off slack trousers and muggle t-shirts and worn out cloaks, looking utterly out of place.

The bushy haired girl held her arms defensively crossed upon her slightly grown belly...

Bloody hell is she pregnant?

In such a time? _Bravo Weasley_!

Her eyes were uncertain... nervous as well perhaps, and she looked worn out as same as her cloak.

The freckled face next to her held an unsure gaze surly, yet curling in disapproval as he entered. He seriously wondered whether the red head had practiced the expression in front of mirror before he came... that is if he owned a mirror of course.

'Good to see you Weasel' he smirked as he elegantly lead himself to a couch.

Weasley snorted turning and whispered to the girl who stood in front without movement. Draco stared at them for a moment. Of course turning of events affected them badly.

Granger looked thinner, with a visible bone structure and her expression was weary with dark circles under brown eyes, quite unhealthy look for someone who's pregnant. And Weasley looked restless and worn out too, which reminded him partly of their werewolf friend, Lupin.

'Well...sit' he said simply. 'The cushioned stuff around you is called chairs. And it's for seating'

Weasley made an ugly gesture 'we didn't come here to listen to your gloat... Malfoy'

'Oh, how vulgar of you' said he mockingly

'come to challenge me to a duel then? to regain pathetic honour you never had. I see no wand in your hand Weasel king...' Draco needed to wrench his neck just for that curling in his lip, not that he couldn't of course.

'- maybe we can play a game of Quidditch, after you breed your own team that is. I see that you've started already..' he smirked

'You -

'Ron... Please' Granger said her tone irritated and begging as the same time. She looked at Draco in a stoic expression and sat down. Weasley swore to himself and followed Granger looking anywhere but Draco's face.

Granger leaned forward clasping her hands together. Her eyes fixed on a simple ring in her finger... are they really married? He saw clearly how thin she had become.

'What is it Malfoy? You send us a letter. You ask us to come here, now what?' her expression was unreadable and her voice too tight.

Draco stared at her. He had sent them a letter asking to meet him, indicating just when and where, attaching a single lock of unmistakable jet black hair to it... would mark their attention he thought.

'Did you not recognize what I sent?'

Granger was silent yet she looked at him painfully.

'OF COURSE WE _RECOGNIZED_ WHAT YOU SENT MALFOY...is it your new way of showing off the despicable clout you have over everything. Should have sent it to Prophet, could have earned you a first page article, Malfoy Heir - Owner of Potter hair disposal' Weasley shot with an almost over the edge anger.

'Ron... Please don't. Granger looked back over the shoulder her voice stern and warningly.

'Please don't what, you want to trust him?'

Weasley shot daggers at Granger and Malfoy as if he caught two of them kissing...

'Fine. But in case if you still remember he is the barking reason for everything...' he snapped

Draco sniggered hiding his irritation. Weasel really was getting to his nerves.

'Still can't get over the way tide turned Weasel? Sucks to be in your side... Could have shifted when you had the chance with your brother Percy!

I don't see him complaining. But I doubt at least Wormtail would give a damn to take you in, even if you let him fuck your arse...'

Draco was ready for the next obvious move. He simply waved his wand and sent the raging Weasley out of his way to throw back and crash on to a wooden coffee table as Granger shouted a screeching '_No'_. She stood up covering the body on the floor_._..

What was the bloody red head aiming to do? Strangle him by bare hands?

stupid Gryffindor, so plainly obvious and predictable. Draco stood as well and walked to see the Weasel bleeding in forehead, where he hit the table.

'What the hell Malfoy...' Granger shouted this time.

'You asked us to come here. If you have nothing but to taunt us we might as well never should have come to your too satisfied life... why..?!'

Her eyes burned... And her voice caught a tone of accusation as spoke.

'Why did you send us his hair?'

Draco couldn't believe his ears at her dim wit...

'Why?' He stared at her.

'Why do you think Granger?

I took every precaution that I could to make sure you two got the letter without tracking and arranged this gathering secretly with no one knowing. Let alone my own father who is in fact owning all the cards and strings to every single hair lock we are talking about , and you can't still guess why? He went in to save you lot for Merlin's sake!'

Ganger paled. She lightly sat down clutching her grown belly as if she dreaded the very words.

'He went in because you stole the bloody pensive Malfoy... even after he took you to his side to save from your own filth... you bloody turncoat.' Weasley gritted his teeth.

'...he went in because you decided to interfere a war you didn't understand, thinking your bloody honour mattered than millions of lives... or the one that saved your shameless arse...' Ron shouted pushing away the elegant coffee table getting to his feet.

Draco looked as him dangerously

'He went in because _your_ bloody clan urged him to sacrifice himself for the useless cliché called _greater good_ you senseless prat... It is what your side do to bloody heroes who are foolish enough to give up their lives to the title.'

He sneered at them...

'Last I looked he exchanged his bleeding life to few worthless hypocrites in school who didn't give a damn about the war... and a couple of Gryffindors like you who were shameless enough to see it as his duty!.'

Granger looked at him in a desperate quietness... 'It was three hundred kids at Hogwarts Malfoy... three hundred in exchange for one.. He went in to save them'

Draco stared back disgustedly at her tear threatening eyes. 'easy to say...' he said mockingly 'sounds pretty heroic too... but not so noble to see when you turn a war hero to a bloody trophy and give him like a tattered goat to the other side to do as they please '

He saw tears spill down Grangers pale face. She fell quiet looking at him and Draco hated the helpless vulnerability he saw in those brown eyes which shamelessly admitted defeat.

Weasley stepped near her from behind, his rage lighten somewhere, replaced by pain and shades of guilt. He put a hand on her shoulder as if to indicate he was there.

Draco turned to the door as a sudden slight knock appeared. He saw the other two flinch at the sound eyes in horror. For Merlin's sake didn't they know that they won't get caught for anything here?

Privileges of being a rich:

Without any hurry or change in his air he opened the door and saw a trolley of pastries and cakes with two bottles of wine.

He cleared the way for the blind folded attendant to push the trolley in.

'Thank you Carlos'

The man nodded with a bow and left leaving the trolley near a rose wood table which was taller than the one Ron fell on to.

Draco sat down pretending not to have heard light rumblings of Weasley's stomach.

He took three wine glasses from the bottom of the trolley and placed them on the table breaking the seal and pouring the glasses.

'Help your selves' he told the other two who stood still.

He shook his head drawing an impossible gesture which lead Granger to sit down opposite him. Weasley followed.

Draco took the food plates from the trolley and pushed them towards the two. 'Eat' he said taking his glass of wine.

Weasley looked at the food with contempt. And Granger stared at him unblinking. Draco sighed... looking at two.

'Food is not an easy luxury among the deprived. you can't do magic... skip pretending and eat'

'We don't need your food Malfoy. we are quite able to feed ourselves'

'Oh... I can surly hear that from the rumbling of your loyal stomach and not to mention your half pregnant unhealthily thin wife Weasley.' he said smugly. 'Ideal time to have children, congratulations!'

Weasley glared contempt but before he open his mouth for a snide comment Granger took a pastry. She sighed quietly.

Draco looked at Weasley who was fuming silently, amazed at the control the little Mudblood held over the wild tempered impossible man beside her.

He never got on well with Granger. Not even when he himself took refuge under them sometime back. But she could have done better... only if she had at least a slight magical lineage to her. It was an utter waste.

'Why call us now Malfoy' Granger asked quietly after a small bite. 'Why after all this time'

'He's in Manor.' He said as a fact.

'So?' Weasley asked gaining an irritated stare from Draco.

'Potter was taken in with a contract of house arrest in exchange of said lives Weasel. Voldemort promised the ministry to keep him unscarred unharmed in headquarters at southern England. Don't you find it problematic that he's in northern England in the Dungeons of a Manor house belongs to the sadistic second in command?' he asked as if talking to a five year old.

Weasley looked furious again in a different manner

'Do you think we are so thick Malfoy? That we believe your lunatic death eater band pulled this game to just to keep him in some blasted building_ unharmed and unscarred_?'

Weasley put his hand on the table and leaned to Draco's face. 'You think we don't know the horrific acts you your death eater clan and your sorry excuse of a father is capable of?'

They glared at each other for a moment without words. Draco looked at him with a disgustful scorn.

'You all sent him to this perfectly knowing how it lined don't you' he said sickened ... ' so much for the Gryffindor loyalty...unbelievable '

'It was his choice ...' said Weasley quietly this time.

'Oh yes... it was his choice as same as it was my choice few years back to take refuge on your side when I failed to kill the muggle loving old crackpot.' The red head looked as if he was ready to murder him as he quite easily casted the memory of the dead head master to their once prospered school.

'Fine... said Granger with a hand on her belly, her voice in a determination. 'Fine, we betrayed him. But Harry won't come running to us even we decided to agree on the fact...'

'oh .. That's unmistakably sure. the running I mean' said Draco mirthlessly

Granger glared as if daring him to voice something resentful. When he did not she took her glass of wine and took a sip. She gazed at him quietly. 'You didn't invite us here to feed us Malfoy. What's in your mind?'

Malfoy studied her. Apart from the belly she still had saved some looks. Her current frail features slightly reminded him of the girl she once was. And behind the tiresomeness and exhaustion which were her current surface features, he saw the shades of un-died courage and concern which was a bit familiar.

'Start a haze' he said simply'

'What?' Weasley shot.

'A haze, a diversion' Draco repeated with irritation. 'Potter was taken in with a set of rule lines to cover the nature of his true surrender to the Dark lord from the common public. Though it would not save him wholly, if pitched to a certain level, ministry would not be able to resist a confirmation on the state of the house arrest to ensure Potter's health and present it to the public... the public who will be concerned on this with constant nagging about the morality of the mistreatment of their savoir. If you can arise the cause in papers such a Quibber or Weeks Quest, Prophet will definitely follow'

'You think two of closely watched wizard traitors will have a say in a news paper Malfoy? not to mention his own two friends.?' Granger said emptily

'Public and the ministry lost their interest on this game sometime back Malfoy, thanks to your own statements on _wizard priorities_ and _wizards' rights to be superiors_ in Prophet,' Weasley sneered 'unless you go and re- state something else... you are the bloody hero now. hope you are enjoying the deaths...'

'Oh I do Weasel, don't mistake me... but it's the best chance he will ever get. I would not be here tomorrow to pamper your backs'

'Falling off the favour then?'Weasley snarled. Draco sniggered at that.

'You two will of course. and then to think that you dropped the only chance ever to help him.' Weasley's lip curled repulsively and Granger just stared silently.

'It won't work Malfoy' said Weasley at the end 'like Hermione said, people would not hear us. Not without proof; At least' he sighed. 'we have given it a rest'

Draco stared at them shocked at their utter un-enthusiasm. The Gryffindor courage and loyalty shattering to pieces.. What a pair of crap.

'He walked to the hell to save you. both of you... and you are not at least interested to try?

- Oh no I forgot, you've started your own life now...' he said mockingly looking at Granger's swollen belly. 'Why bother to bring in another sack of trouble, he only saved your neck few times.'

Weasley was about to pounce again but Granger cut him off again.

'You don't know what you are talking Malfoy' said she quietly with a uptight expression. 'You don't have any idea...' She placed her hand on her belly once more as if it was heavier than it looked. 'Do you have any proof we can pass on?'

'Hermione are you crazy? Even if we had proof where are we to say we got it from..? from him?' Weasley snapped at Draco.

'We are not going to start a rebel and take him out Ron. If it at least eases out what he's going through. we better give it a try... we owe him that.'

Weasley fell silent. Granger sighed and looked at Draco. 'So do you - have any proof?'

'You won't have to reveal your selves. I have pictures. muggle ones of him entering the Manor... owl them to Weekly Quest. They would do anything to publish something that the Prophet hasn't brought out yet.'

'And how do you suppose we do that.' asked Weasley scornfully at his wife. Granger wiped some hair out of her face. 'We haven't got an owl Malfoy -we cannot afford to keep a one let alone buy a one' she said simply... and Draco saw Weasley flush in an ugly colour in his wife's reveal. And Draco decided to leave the matter though it did bother him inwardly.

'Leave that to me' he said plainly and took out few scraps of small papers out of his trouser pocket. He placed them for the others to see.

One was Harry getting down from a black cart with each of the horses bearing the Malfoy crest and few others shot in clear premises of the Manor while Harry was being dragged by a pile of death eaters. He was pale and looked rather weak and the pictures clearly indicated he was being manhandled.

Granger only gazed at the pictures slightly... Draco was sure she was dreading what she might see. As for Weasley, he took few pictures to his hand and looked at them with an unfamiliar expression to Draco. was it horror, jealousy, rage or pity ... Draco couldn't tell. Might be harsh seeing his mate in pictures like that, standing alone surrounded by a dozen of black clad death eaters pulling at him

'Where do you two live?' he asked quietly more to break the hurtful silence the latter pictures casted at them.

'In the left corner flats in Hogsmeade..' Granger replied.

Draco remembered those buildings. Worn out, dirty and small. He never had gone in there of course. How could anyone live in that.. He remembered thinking while passing the building.

He nodded and took out hand full of gold coins out of his pocket and silently dropped them to the table... 'For the owl' he said without looking at either of them to see them both flush in red. Knowing the amount he dropped was more than enough to by an owl as well as nearly two weeks food for two of them. Draco stood up.

'Will be in touch' he said thoughtfully adding a quick glance at the two people in the room. He started turning the door handle as Granger called back at him...

'Draco...' the use of his first name made him turn back.

'Why us? I mean you could have sent these pictures anonymously.' her tone was curious but in a was someone is trying to understand beyond the usual points.

Draco looked at Weasley who stood still.

'Because you two are his only family.' he said simply. 'Thought you might need to involve.' he saw the girl's eyes well in tears again. Merlin knew if it's alright to be so unhappy when you are pregnant - thought he. He turned the handle again...

'How is he?'

She asked again her voice loading an unnatural haste to her tone.

He could tell that she craved to ask this for a long time. from the moment she saw him.

'I don't know...' he said wearily, dreading she might ask more... but her face drowned in a stoic expression through threatening tears.

'Alive... I guess' he looked at her overly thin scale and tear streaked eyes.

Weasley looked empty tired and helpless behind his wife.

He sighed and got himself out.

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><p><em><strong>End note:<strong>__ well now you know what he's up to. Hoping to go in to a bit more details on characters and situations in the next chapter.. Also some flashbacks on beloved Harry..._

**So... tell me what you think... comment comment comment... **


	3. A one Sunday morning

**Disclaimer****_:_**_**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. All copy writes received by the rightful owners.**_

**Title : Penance for Failure **

**Warning: This story contains angst, violence, and sexual situations. RATED N-17 **

**Pairing: Ron/ Hermione, Harry/ Hermione, Harry /Multiple**

**Summary: War hero turned a war trophy as the resistance fell. Draco Malfoy urges a bitter Ron & a pregnant Hermione to help him in an impossible quest of saving the saviour. But it won't be easy with everything falling to darkness in a twisted way. Angst/torture/M**

_Note: This is completely AU from the 6th book and I'm still borrowing ideas from J.K Rowling's Deathly Hallows. I'll mention them in time. The story is set three years after the Half-Blood Prince in a world where Harry has surrendered to Voldemort and Death Eaters, as a peace treaty between the ministry and the Dark regime. Draco Malfoy, the newest icon in the wizarding world, is to witness his onetime nemesis under the grasp of the Death Eater clan. _

_** A very special thanx to my beta eleventy7. This story would have had tons of mistakes without your help. _

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Draco yawned lazily as he heard a house elf place tea and his breakfast carefully on the bedside table, with newspapers. He always had his breakfast on bed. The pop out of the blasted elf was his usual wakeup call. But today Draco did not get up. Instead he positioned himself more comfortably on the bed.

It was a Sunday. It would be too soon to expect Weasel and Granger to have done anything. So he did not hurry on the papers which would be filled with the exaggerations of the very positive developments on the not so new regime of the pure bloods and the peace treaty between the Dark Lord and the Ministry.

Papers would not have any mention of the past war neither the resistance backed by the Ministry itself, for some time. And no statements on hundreds of killings and tortures it caused and of course no mention on the Boy who scarified and saved few hundred lives and stopped the war. A winning war is soldiers dying and some few privileged celebrating... all politics**. Draco knew that.

Looking at the glistening white ceiling above him he wondered whether the two took the gold he had thrown to them. The Weasel looked murderous surly. But insulting was the last thing Draco had in mind. He knew they were in bad shape. Everyone in past resistance was; torn away from their magic, he knew that. But seeing it so close made him wonder a bit. But it's not as if the weasel had pocket full of money earlier anyway.

But so many things made him wander in thoughts these days. The tortures, domination and changes in system made him wonder whether the remaining members of the resistance found their utter sacrifices worth the trouble, really.

He did not know when he became aware of the situation. His old self would not have given a rat's arse about anything. Yet being close to the very heart of the resistance for about a year... knowing the very people who fought for whatever they believed (not that he believed back then) he cannot deny that the things had changed to the exact level they feared.

And he was the witness.

Knowing the person close for some time, he wasn't even surprised when Potter signed away his life to save the hostages from the school. He was shocked though, because he knew, that Potter knew well enough what will happen if he hand himself in despite what the treaty said.

He sighed. The first time Draco saw Harry Potter after the guys' self acclaimed surrender, was the day he was brought in to Malfoy Manor.

Draco was not that surprised though, when Potter was transferred here in spite of the treaty. He was promised to be kept in house arrest at Death eater head quarters where the Dark lord himself lived. Draco was shocked to hear about the sacrifice the Golden boy made in the beginning ... but not surprised.

And it disturbed him to find Potter in the clutches of his father.

He remembered...

_He vividly remembered Potter being brought in by a set of Death eaters, dragging him with an unnecessary force as if he was struggling madly: only that he didn't._

_The guy was Paler than he remembered, and thinner. His cloths looked a bit ragged and worn off as if he had been wearing them for weeks. He looked weak, unlike the energy filled resolute personality Draco once remembered in Order Head quarters. _

_Was it his fault? He squeezed his eyes. _

_Many things felt as if they are his fault now days. _

_No... He told himself._

_No... He was just playing his cards... to the safety of his family and himself... _

_There was no regret._

_ He tried to assure himself. But looking at the lone form of the one who once gave him refuge when he was at his lowest... surrounded by a dozen of hungry black clad men, he couldn't but stop grit his teeth with guilt. _

_He did not plan this to happen.._

_Potter still wore glasses and his hair was still unruly jet black, as if daring anyone to touch it...as it always was, he remembered. And the very air of him was far from a one who was broken or scared. Draco could admire the very manner Potter held head defiant and glaring as everything was slow motion._

_But his gestures did not slow the black clad men. Draco watched from the first floor balcony as Potter was dragged in to the Marble stair lobby from the entrance by Macnair and Avery, to be thrown down like rag doll. Most of them laughed manically as if the frail figure they have thrown down was some joke. Potter didn't move, but sat still as he was thrown, glaring up to a figure stepping near him._

_Draco gazed unblinking as a tall black clad figure glided towards Potter, his perfect blond hair unmoving. Lucius was directly looking down at the young man in front of him. He with the slightest movement pulled the brunets' chin upwards with his wand cased black dragon head cane. Potter stared obstinately._

_'Welcome to Malfoy Manor, Harry.' he said with a touch of sarcasm._

_ 'I'm sure it will be a pleasant stay for all of us.' he added as the Death eaters around laughed. _

_Potters' expression was unchanged, as Draco saw. Weary but empty and stubborn as if his surrounding did not affect him at all. If Draco did not know him better he could have actually thought it to be true. But knowing the boy for about a year, he knew it was Potter's way of facing things he couldn't come in to terms with. _

_But non-responsiveness did not suit Malfoy senior. Draco knew it to be a fact learnt in his younger ages about his father. So it didn't surprise him when Potter was slashed across the face with the dragon cane. Malfoy senior then grabbed a pile of black hair and bent the Potters' head backwards whispering to his ear..._

_Draco tapped at the balcony restlessly. He couldn't hear what was being said. But it did bring some effect out of the empty emerald eyes._

_ Some emotion, but quickly Potters face stuck a stoic expression. He said something back with a quite expected blow to his face. _

_Malfoy senior took a few steps back from the figure who tried to sit up. His lip was split._

_'I would try to be a bit less insolent if I was in your place, Potter.' Malfoy said harshly and quietly. _

_Though Draco could only see his father's back, he knew his father was angry. No mistake of it. _

_'Yet of course it's hard for you to resist your whore of a mothers mudblood influence... the Ministry had put up with you, but bad habits earn vengeance in pureblood households.' _

_He said matter of fact while Potter glared at him._

_ 'Since that you are so repulsive of our regime, wouldn't it be better to carve its mere presence for you to carry forever?' Malfoy sniggered with sarcasm walking in slow pace. _

_Draco could see many of the black clad faced line with a twisted cruelty. Lucius gestured at some hooded figures in the circle_

_ 'Macnair, if you may..., Avery, Goyle' said he stopping his pacing and turned back to the boy on the floor. _

_Draco felt a sudden jolt inside. His father had just stopped where if gazed up from the spot Potter was, he would directly see Draco standing in the balcony. _

_He didn't dare move... in case he dragged attention. But luckily Potter was looking away, at the tree figures now getting closer to him. _

_Draco watched as Macnairs' Avery and Goyle senior broke from the circle they had formed around and reach the figure middle in the floor. Goyle Senior grabbed one of the arms and stretched it easily, pushing the sleeve up to reveal pale lean hand. Potter squeezed his eyes shut as Avery seized his other hand and pile of hair locking him to the place. _

_Macnair smiled amused as he took out his wand and started fixing a sharp blade like nib to the tip. Once finished he reached the hand and looked at Malfoy senior as if for a signal... _

_'No... .' said Lucius Malfoy quietly not betraying any movement. _

_Potter opened his eyes but didn't look up._

_ 'Not the hand...' Lucius Malfoy said and Draco could feel the sarcasm in voice. 'Hand is for the loyal...and trusted. It's an honouree bearing...' _

_He paused slightly touching his own mark _

_'...on his back. on whole of it. Let's see how long you could bear this with your poker face.' Laughter..._

_Potter gasped as his head was hit side down to the floor. Avery grabbed the both legs and held tight in an iron grip. His hands were clasped to the neck and held rough. Draco watched Potter give in to the helpless position knowing what would happen next._

_Macnair stepped behind the laid figure waving his sharp edged wand, cruel smile in his face. He whispered something at the wand which made it burn white hot. Then he bent and tore open Potters' shirt in back and looked at Malfoy Senior for approval. _

_'This is your first lesson, Harry' said Malfoy Senior with gentleness which made Draco grip hard on the stone railing. 'Let's see how our hero would bear the mark which he so defies.'_

_ Lucius nodded while Death eaters laughed again and the emerald eyes glared at Malfoy senior directly. _

_For an instant Draco felt like turning and running away as two emerald eyes passed Malfoy senior and stilled on him... those eyes which showed kindness and assurance to him once, held a stone stoic expression, on seeing the one who betrayed him. The emerald eyes stared while a sudden sadness lined light in his lips for an instant moment. _

_At that moment Macnair dug his burning wand tip in to Potter's skin. The whole body shuddered as the emerald eyes disappeared in a squeeze. His mouth gapped without a sound and body struggled uselessly. But the iron grips did not offer him any mercy. He shuddered with each cut... each line carved in with the white hot nib, digging in to flesh. Painful groans lingered for controlled sobs._

_ Draco shivered as well with a slight burning in his throat. He absently touched his dark mark in his forearm... which had been magically carved to his skin years back. It did hurt a bit, for few seconds. Now days it burnt less even. When dark lord summoned. _

_Potter tried hard to keep down his sobs yet failed as Macnair dug deeper unnecessarily, aiming just to make the boy scream. His eyes closed sometimes and teeth gritted with groans, trying to hold his pain, but stared at Draco time to time... as if reminding himself why he was going through this. Draco stayed there unmoving as long as he could. but feeling himself over the edge he left having seen enough_...

Draco blinked away the disturbing memory...

He ran his fingers through his hair and sat on the bed. He had avoided any associates what so ever to do with Potters' stay in the Malfoy Manor after that for almost one and a half months, skip some unexpected incidents in dungeons and his father's private chambers, where he was unfortunate enough to enter and see an un-mistaking locks of black hair under the drawn sheets with a one pale slender hand with red angry whip marks cuffed to the head post.

He had looked stunned as his father gazed back at him lying next to the prone figure under the sheets running his fingers casually through unruly black locks. He had betrayed nothing and said nothing to his father.

But after that he could not ignore that Potter was in case ...under the very roof he was in, is enduring things that no one in his age should have.

He skipped using silencing spells over his potions lab in dungeons and let the occasional screams of pain poke his ears. Yet he never dared to go in the torture chambers and look at the one the world had betrayed on their path to betterment.

He did not have the courage...Not until a week back. And he regretted looking at those emerald eyes when he finally did.

Those eyes ...Stoic and drained of its spark... yet determined in an unnatural way.

With it he knew he could not stand aside and do nothing anymore.

He had to act...

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In a dirty flat in the left corner of Hogsmade, Ron Weasley lay on his back awake on the worn out jagged mattress. He gazed emptily at grey spider webs above him which almost covered the entire ceiling.

Looking sideways, he watched the laying form of Hermione. She was curled slightly turning her back to him in the other edge of the mattress as if someone else slept between them.

He knew she was awake...

He wished he could say something to her... they had had a fight over the letter that arrived few days back from Malfoy. He had downright refused to go... but Hermione had gone furious and threatened to go alone if he did not come. They had a bitter raw, with Ron screaming things he didn't dare to spill out about their patched up relationship.

But in the end he had gone with her to meet the traitorous trash. And he regretted going.

Now they both lay here on their dirty mattress, everything too fresh in their minds as it all happened just yesterday. He sighed. How had it all come to this...

Ron got off the mattress slowly and headed out of their small room closing the door behind him not looking back at the laying figure. He headed for the only bathroom in the second floor common to all in the floor. It was all they could afford with his simple job as a cleaner in a small herb shop down the lane... so much for an Auror.

Almost everyone in the flat had already gone for their jobs...like him, they could not afford to lose a day's payment. But they were there because they were poor unlike the two of them, not because they were cast out from the wizarding community for the reason that they were once a part of the resistance.

And being deprived and stolen from all magical means... two of them were not a preferred company even to their poor neighbours... not that they recognized them for who they really were but they all knew they had some connection to the resistance itself.

Ron locked the dirty door of the bathroom and sat on the cracked tub... he was in for a brood. About his family, his past job, school years, Quiddich... and Harry...

The vivid picture of jet black hair and emerald green eyes made him want to hit his head on the wall, until it bled. He wasn't sure what he was feeling for his once best mate. Everything they loved and stood for had fallen to ashes with him. Everything... and who was to blame?

How did it all come to this...

It was hours late when he came out... washed and ready mood to go to work... he was late.

He pushed open the door to their room slowly ... not wanting to disturb Hermione.

But as he stepped in he saw that she was awake... and dressed, as if she had just got in from somewhere.

She was busy in the table ... placing a steaming soup pot carefully among a loaf of bread and two plates. The smell was gripping but for some reason he felt his heart clench. Hermione slowly sat down in one of the almost broken chairs with a hand on her belly and looked at him.

A sudden squeak of an owl made Ron look down near the mattress. A brown plain owl sat in a cage... Ron looked back at Hermione his face flushed with contempt.

'You bought food with that scum bags' money?!' he asked as if he did not know what she was anymore.

'It's just food, Ron... no need to take that tone with something simple' she said quietly.

He clenched teeth. 'Simple? Is that what it is for you now, Hermione?...you think the git gave us money out of his pure heart?'

'Like I said... it's just food, Ron. You eat it and forget about it... That's it.' She said her voice raised a bit yet not giving up her calmness.

Ron glared at her furiously. 'Is that why you were so keen enough to taste his bloody pastries yesterday?'

'Hold your tongue... You were flashing out some pride you never had on him when he was trying to help!'

'Damn help it is,' he said dangerously.. 'He bloody caused all this!... you think it's easy for me to scrub floors on all fours to find money for a scrap of food so we can just avoid sleeping without our stomachs rumbling!? Do you think it's so simple that you could just go and kiss his arse for whatever he flashes on us!.. you think it's easy to bloody look at you when you do it as you did yesterday and again today!?' Ron shouted his wit out not caring to see a silver tear spill out of her eye. He hated her right now, with her thin frame and swollen belly.

She stared at him through tears.

'you think it's easy for _me_ Ron?' her voice shook. 'You think it's easy for me to just sit and wait in this room while you try to patch things up? And I can't forget he's in there... ALONE FACING MERLIN KNOWS WHAT.'

'Are you saying that backbiting scum really want to help him?... he's the fucking reason for all this.. Harry trusted him not us... he's paying now isn't he?' with that Hermione stood up pushing back the chair.

'Don't you dare ...' - she said as if despised by his mere voice. 'Don't you dare say Harry deserve-'

'Deserve?' Ron punched the wooden table spilling the soup out. The owl screeched in a painful sound.

'NO, HE HAD IT COMING TO HIM... he loves playing the bloody hero to whoever has the guts to ask him for it. He only didn't look beyond his damn arse to see people who cared for him needed saving too...'

Hermione gazed at him emptily and sighed heavily as if to push her threading tears back. 'Is that what you think this is, Ron?'

She whispered wiping her brow off as in a headache. 'You think he is in this situation because he played what we all expected him to play? You weren't so unhappy when he did it to save Ginny or your father... where do you think all of us would be today if he didn't do it?'

Ron punched the table again... his throat was hoarse

'don't give me that crap of a lecture Hermione... you want to talk about saving? How about him trying to save you from what he was really responsible for... he should have left this country with us when he had the chance. But no, he has to jump in and save the day for anyone but us... it's his child you are carrying not mine!

Hermione just stared... hurt broke down in tears. Ron never said such things. Not even when they argued on going to meet Malfoy. It was the utter tragedy of all three of them. The last laying piece of their friend wrapped in a packet of betrayal.

She sighed feeling tired out of her wits. Looking away she sat down holding her heavy belly.

'You don't have to waste your time on any of this, Ron. I don't want to be a burden... not to you.'

Ron could just stand there, motionless... he didn't mean to say it. But she had made him too furious. He worked day and night just to make sure she would have something to feed on. She and the baby. But here she was flashing food on to his face from money thrown at them as they were scum begging in streets.

He had had courage to accept the fact that love of his life had betrayed him to comfort his best mate... yet as hard it had been how could he just accept everything that comes under Harry's name. Harry had been their loves' blessing as well as their curse

Ron wanted comfort for them for both of them... but it was not what's happening.

Silence... He hated the sudden silence after every frustrated raw, when both of them realized that they are hitting on the same answerless facts of their lives.

'You are not a burden' Ron sat down in the other half broken chair.

Harry had exchanged his life to save few hundred lives in the Hogwarts including his. The ministry requested Harry for his surrender with no other option left in their half. So Harry did... selling his very existence for the freedom of the others, including his best friends'. But that freedom also marked the downfall of the resistance and the doom of the justice and any good in the society. Now they had no hope... no matter how they argued or whoever they blamed.

Hermione sighed again after moments of silence 'I'm a mudblood Ron... and I'm pregnant...with his child,' she said in a broken voice.

'What do you think they'll do when they found about this... how long am I going to be able to hide this? ' she hid her face in her hands ... she never cried in front of him... he is going through enough of problems concerning her, she always thought when she got mad at him.

Ron gazed still at the shaking shoulders in front of him. She rarely cried recently, unlike in the beginning when it all had fallen apart and Harry had gone on with the peace truce.

She had grown to be dutiful and patient about the whole thing lately.. Maybe the baby made her stronger than she really was... he couldn't tell. She spent all her time cooking cleaning and spending the small amount of money he earned, with such care.

She had gotten thin and her hair less bushier and less brown than he remembered. Her hands rough and skin dry with all the chores she did to add at least a penny to what he earned... but being muggle born no one cared to pay her with money.

Ron stepped close to her... his throat burned and eyes blurring... this was what is left for them... isn't it? He knelt down her seated form. His roughened palm tried to fondle her thin hand soothingly. Ron wished if he could console her... say that it's going to be all right.. that they were in this together***. But he couldn't.

Not at that moment...

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E/N: well it's half a chapter from the previous one. And it's not much moving forth to the story. But I felt it necessary be sound on what goes on in these characters heads. Especially Ron's since he might have seen to be rather agitated to see Malfoy junior. Hopefully the next chapter will bring the story a step ahead.. Don't forget to comment on the story ... I do luv to hear what you think of the story.

** from the script of Ridely Scott's Troy

** took this one from HP and OOTP script... I thought it's a good line to use here.


	4. Unharmed & Unscarred'

**Disclaimer:** **_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. All copyright remains with the rightful owners._**

**Warning: This story contains angst, violence, and sexual situations. RATED N-17 **

_Note: _This is completely AU from the 6th book and I'm still borrowing ideas from J.K Rowling's Deathly Hallows. I'll mention them in time. The story is set three years after the Half-Blood Prince in a world where Harry has surrendered to Voldemort and Death Eaters, as a peace treaty between the ministry and the Dark regime. Draco Malfoy, the newest icon in the wizarding world, is to witness his onetime nemesis under the grasp of the Death Eater clan.

** This chapter is updated with the help of aimmez. thank you so much for your help!

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><p>Tuesday afternoon, Draco found himself in his potions lab again, spending his time with the fresh smells of brewing potions. Potions being his favorite subject in school, Draco continued to brew and experiment on his own, just to indulge in something other than political plots and dress ups. It was a habit he picked up while his time in the <em>order of the phoenix<em>. It was the only thing he was good at then, which made him feel at least a bit important brewing cauldrons of healing potions, dreamless sleeping potions and _polyjuice potions_ for the order members who involved in the war fields.

Brewing potions meant discipline and attention. It steadied Draco's mind and made him feel involved. His latest experiments on sleeping droughts had given him interesting results. He started cutting each ingredient with phase and rhythm, feeling occupied.

Suddenly his peace was rudely interrupted by the sounds of banging doors, thundering footsteps and raised voices. It sounded like a fight starting in the chamber next door. Draco took a step towards his study's door and could hear items being thrown against the other side. He opened the door ever so slightly to peek through. All hell was breaking loose.

Draco recognized the voices of Macnair, Goyle, Lestrange and his father, they all seemed furious over something. Their shouting match started to become very abusive towards one another. Foul words turned to vile torture curses which were mixed with horrendous screams and the sounds descended to sobs and whimpering. Draco froze, quickly shutting the door. His heartbeat rose to a gallop and anxiety swept over him as he sat back down at his desk, nervously twiddling his thumbs.

The voices died down and he could now only here the occasional sob with sounds of whipping against flesh. There were words of sarcasm, amusement and anger. It was hours before the sobs and whimpering completely subsided. He waited, though he didn't know what for. He was worried and silently dreaded that the forgotten chosen one would not survive the day. But, Draco didn't move from his seat the entire time, and still he twiddled his thumbs absentmindedly.

Draco decided to leave the tortourous lab. He closed the door behind him soundlessly and stepped in to the stony corridor walking past a few of the unwanted guests' chambers. He could hear hammering footsteps, and a chamber door behind him opened noisily. He turned around quickly as if he had been sprung, to see his father with a sweaty Macnair and a murderous Bellatrix behind him. Repulsively he gazed at the bloody drops on Macnairs' face and neck as the group stepped closer to him. Macnairs' shovel like hands clearly tainted with patches of drying blood.

Draco stared at his father's form. He was not the usually cool Malfoy Senior, instead he looked agitated and furious. His normally perfect hair, instead disheveled.

'What's wrong?' Draco asked coolly.

'He's a bloody sobbing whore. That's what's wrong!' Bellatrix screeched.

Lucius reached into his cloak and pulled out a crumpled bundle of papers and flashed it to Draco. He recognised the documents instantly - they were the front pages of the Quibber and Weeks Quest with gleaming pictures of Lucius Malfoy and a much younger Harry potter. Pictures taken in their fourth year.

These were the very pictures Draco gave to Weasley and Granger. They were very clear.

The Weeks Quest headline read in large,

STRIKE OF THUNDER TO MALFOY MANOR: DID THE MINISTRY BETRAY YOUNG WIZARD HERO ON PURPOSE?

_The once hailed young hero of a past era, Harry Potter, had been the centre of the peace treaty between_ _the Ministry of Magic and the victorious Lord Voldemort regime. The undefeated rival of the Lord, the_ _boy who lived, agreed his surrender on the condition there be 'no killings' and 'magical priority', while the Minister_ _of Magic agreed to the proposed house arrest of the one Harry Potter at the Riddle Manor under the care of the Lord himself on the condition that be remain 'unharmed and unscarred.' yet as the recent..._

Draco didn't bother to read the passage anymore or the other paper, but stared at the sharp features of 14 year old Potter on the page.

'The little sucker had somehow gotten the word out.' Bellatrix blurted out.

'The nerve he has. He wouldn't admit it. But the slutty whelp will, once I start with him. I can do better than your whips, Macnair.' She gritted teeth manically.

'My whips would have done the job if you lowered the pace, Lestrange... you were peeling his bloody bones until he fainted.'

'Enough...!' Lucius said dangerously. Something had seriously gone wrong for the senior Malfoy to lose his calm like this. He looked at Draco. 'They will come to check on him this Saturday - those Ministry grunts." He added as he saw Draco's questioning gaze. "The Lord doesn't need this matter turned on him openly. He's already furious that the pictures clearly show the boy is being held here!'

Draco betrayed no expression though he utterly felt smug.

'Are they going to take him?'

'Like hell they would! I'd break his limbs and stitch them back upside down if they tried!' Bellatrix laughed dangerously. 'They will have to restitch him before taking him to his _loyal_ followers.'

Draco raised an eyebrow. His aunt had the most horrid imagination and given the chance she would unleash it on her unfortunate prey.

'Tempting as it is, Bella, I doubt the Dark Lord will wait for you to do that before wrenching your pretty neck if he lost the boy.' said Lucius.

'We need to know how the word got out, whether he has any contacts outside these walls. We also need to prepare him, we've got three days before the ministry raid.' Malfoy senior looked at his son gravely. 'Your Aunt and Macnair will question him to see if he knows anything and they'll send him to you on Saturday, do whatever you want with him, fuck him, use him if you want to... but dress him properly and put him to his right mind to understand that if he slips _anything... anything at all,_ we'll get all his bloody friends to pay for it as well as his damn arse.'

Draco stared at his father blankly.

'I've promised to go to France with mother this Friday.' he said uneasily. He had no desire to meet Potter.

'Draco, the Dark Lord requests your presence on Saturday when the Ministry's here. You are the only gentleman in this raving clan. You know I couldn't trust anyone with this but you. We need him to look like he did two years ago. You knew him then, make him look like he did in these _fucking_ photos.'

Draco glared at his father. This was insane. He didn't want to see Potter, especially not after Aunt Bellas' and Macnairs' torture sessions. Were they really going to present Potter to the Ministry after torturing him? How bad does he actually look? He felt a twinge of unease at having to face Potter himself, and he did not expect a Ministry raid so soon. Sure, a couple of photos being let out might get some public response, but he did not expect them to attract the attention of the ministry so soon.

'I can't bloody remember his face, alright?'

He ran his hand over his forehead, forcing himself to stay calm. 'Did you question the newspapers? Surely they would know who gave them the news and pictures - they printed it.'

'They don't know who sent it. Brought in by a new owl, it dropped and fled, at both papers. The Quibbler's Editor in Chief said he was on leave so some new thrash passed it to print and the other claims he printed it after the Quibber did - he figured it would do no harm since it was already in print.' Lucius said as if in a rhyme.

'Bloody pigs!' Bella snapped.

'They will both go down. Believe me.' Lucius said quietly as to calm himself. 'But we have to sort this out. Let's have a gala dinner on Saturday to honour our little hero and the ministry dipso. Narcissa would love the change. '

Draco snorted inwardly, only he knew the displeasure his mother have been showing Lucius on having the boy hero under this roof. Draco didn't think his mother ever cared about politics. Yet it was not hidden from her that Malfoy had been using the brunette to satisfy his own pleasures and desires. The very thought made Draco uneasy.

'Don't spoil his face then, if you are planning to send him to me. I don't know how to fix it. Can't remember what it looked like.' he said irritated, walking away from the other three.

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><p>For the next day and a half Draco was plagued with a nagging restlessness. By Wednesday he seriously considered owling Granger and Weasley, but was not sure whether they'd risk another visit. Weasel had kept to his word yet Draco didn't know how long he would continue to risk the lives of his wife and baby for this.<p>

He didn't dare to go back to the dungeons. He did not want to hear the screams or sounds of suffering, which he knew were there to be heard. Instead he busied himself in his study writing political scriptures on behalf of the new regime, which were so famous on several monthly papers and books. But with a restless mind he was far from penning anything worth writing.

It was not just the thought of seeing Potter that disturbed him, but the whole situation. The Ministry's pouncing on the problem right at the start worried him. He thought they would hold back until the public grew very concerned. In that way Potter's name could have gathered more people's attention, and given that chance, the resistance might have stood up again. But handling it with this instant response, the Ministry could close the case just in one swift stroke. All they had to do is arrange a simple examination and report that Potter was doing fine.

The public will believe it as same as they believed Potter's terms of surrender, '_unharmed and unscarred' _and go on with their lives.

And of course if Potter did show any suspicious behaviour in the middle of already frenzied death eater flock he'd end up being tortured even worse. The Ministry witness would do nothing more than advise Lucius to keep to the pact and still report that everything was under control. Merlin, this is as bad as it could get... what was he thinking?

The Dark Lord had no intention of letting the boy slip away from him, the same way that the Ministry had no intention to point the finger in any matter regarding Harry Potter. How could he not understand that the very name '_Harry Potter_' is just a fleck in their eye that they preferred to ignore, even the Weasel had said so.

Friday night was the most edgy of all. He dreaded the coming day, yet in a way, grew impatient for the night to pass. Also he worried about the outcome and feared that their attempt would be fruitless. Beyond everything, he dreaded facing his onetime saviour, tortured and patched up to face the world like a puppet.

Sleep came much later to him that night, and it was a restless, broken sleep when it did. He dreamed of the gala dinner with Lucius sitting at the head of the table. Instead of food, there lay Potter on the table, nailed down. He was laughing madly as Bellatrix cut off his arms and started stitching them back on backwards.

'You can fuck him if you want to.' said Lucius pouring a bottle of red wine over Potter's head. The red liquid soaked the black locks and washed over the pale skin dripping on the polished table.

Draco woke all sweaty and nervous and he cursed himself for not taking a dreamless potion beforehand.

* * *

><p><em>AN: well I know it's much shorter than the previous two... but I think it's a good pause there. Sorry if you think the last part barbaric... but its' just a dream. And well you have been warned. I'm excited about the next part because it's been inside my head for very long... well let's see how it will turn out... anyways leave comments... I simply love to hear anything good or bad._


	5. Bottlenecked

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is a property of J.K. Rowling. All copy writes received by her. **

**I'm just trying to get this story out of my head... **

Title : **Penance for Failure**

Summary: War hero turned a war trophy as the resistance fell. Draco Malfoy urges a bitter Ron & a pregnant Hermione to help him in an impossible quest of saving the saviour. But it won't be easy with everything falling to darkness in a twisted way. Angst/torture/M

Pairing: Ron/ Hermione, Harry/ Hermione, Harry /Multiple

Warning: **This story contains angst, violence, and sexual situations. RATED M + (warning for angst!)**

**_A/N : well this took some time to update. Sorry about that. I had a hard time finding a good beta who's easy to work with and who's interested in the story. Thank you so much aimmez (Amy) for your support. I would have just given up with this story had you not written to me. Thanx again._**

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><p>'Something worrying you, Draco?' Narcissa asked, lowering her book and looking at Draco, who sat opposite to her reading chair, near the window of her chamber. Both of them have been here the entire morning; Narcissa reading and Draco nervously dreading the rest of the day.<p>

He had slept badly last night. Strange dreams of Potter and his father's henchmen had invaded his sleep, which made him uncomfortable and nauseous as if he was in a hangover.

He hadn't bother dressing and was still in his loose bed shirt and trousers. He looked at his mother. She was fully dressed in one of her fine couture velvet dresses and sitting in her Victorian reading chair as a picture of the privileged lady that she was.

Narcissa Malfoy was an elite woman by any measure. Her unmarked fair complexion and elegant blond hair placed her as one of the most attractive ladies of her age and class. It seemed that neither the war nor political disputes concerned her. Given the chance, she would have left the politically infested Malfoy Manor and settled at their estate in France, where she spent much of her time already. But her love for her son assuaged her decision. She feared what her son might become, left alone with her husband and his tastes and acquaintances. Draco knew all of this.

So Narcissa made sure to spend at least two days a week in the Manor attending balls and friendly gatherings and she made sure to spend most of her time with Draco. He didn't mind of course. She was one of the most interesting people he knew in his life; with acquired knowledge in modern art and literature. Also he had to admit, she was one of the prettiest women he had beheld.

Lucius considered her to be an unpredictable woman. She rarely argued with Lucius, unless in a situation like Potter, where she made her opposing points direct and clear when the Dark lords war trophy was brought in to her house. She had told her husband that she would not tolerate the manor dungeon being filled with halfbloods and mudbloods so Lucius could have his pick at night to inflict his absurd lusts on them. Lucius seemed to be really outrages but was not able to change his wife's dislike.

Draco knew the reason she didn't normally fight - she thought it was below her to question her husband's affairs, and Draco admired her for that. Her relationship with her husband was a formal one in which it was framed with duties and titles. Yet, when it came to Draco she was reckless enough to run and bind the Dark Lord's most faithful servant, Severus Snape, with an unbreakable vow to protect her only son. She had connections where it mattered.

Whenever Snape came to Manor, he made sure to spend some time with Narcissa discussing over a book or a piece of art. He had met Snape several times in Narcissa's private parlour where she entertained her friends. Sometimes Draco wished and desired a similar acquaintance with such a powerful man who had the ability to change Dark lord decisions with few words.

Even Lucius envied such a connection and was a little unsecured with his wife's friendship with the Dark Lords' right hand man, Severus Snape. Lucius was no fool; he knew how deeply Snape cared for Narcissa. But Lucius could not complain because there were no masks in their relationship or any crossings beyond feelings. If there were more to it, Lucius had to suspend them to suspicions as there was never any proof...

'You look nervous.' Narcissa said again a bit more concerned. Draco leaned further back to his chair and looked at her, dragging his nails along the wooden window sill. The sill screeched in disapproval. He sighed.

'Shouldn't I be? I'm about to babysit fathers' new girlfriend.'

Draco knew his mother had a dispute over Potters stay in the Manor with Lucius. But he didn't know how much she knew of what the boy hero was led to endure at his father's possession despite her mention of father inflicting his absurd lusts on prisoners. She didn't approve torture. That he knew.

He felt his mothers eyes on him, studying him, her face polite yet curious. She never talked politics with him nor with anyone else to his knowledge. She regarded the topic with an ever constant indifference. Even when Draco had returned to the Dark Lord after spending a year and a half with the Order and betraying their trust, his mother never questioned him other than about his health and comfort. But at that moment she was looking back at him with a definite curiosity.

'You should have said no, if it bothers you so,' she said casually. He looked back at her plainly.

'Like I have a choice, if the cover on Potter gets blown dark lord won't be pleased.' Draco sighed running his hand through his forehead.

'The Dark Lord's favour is not consistent - if you gather my meaning.' said Narcissa turning to her book again.

Draco stared at his mother, at times he often felt himself wondering what side his mother really argued for. He kept his stare at her calm reading form, but she didn't look up to meet his gaze.

He knew she was worried - worried over what he really might be up to today. Draco did have a free pass to have his way with his onetime school rival. Afraid that if he was given the chance, he too would follow further down the path that the Dark Lord had laid out for them. She was afraid Draco would become more like his father. As much as his mother loved him, Draco knew she didn't have the perspective on things that he did. Not that he knew exactly what he was doing either or where it is leading him.

Suddenly a loud crack was heard which made Draco jump and he turned towards the sound. There in the middle of the room a batty eared house elf peered at them, his glass ball eyes bowing low as it gazed upon them.

'Sorry to intrude, Mistress Malfoy and young Master Malfoy, sir,' the elf stammered, but Willy is to inform Master Malfoy that Harry Potter had been taken to young Masters' chambers, washed and cleaned already, to be dressed for the dinner sir. Master Goyle is waiting in the chamber for Master Malfoy come sir.' said the elf breathlessly.

Draco looked at his mother who was staring at the elf still. She held a strange expression... a mixture of fear, disgust and anger. Letting out a sigh he got up...

'Arrange the clothes I requested, I want them pressed and ready by five.'

'Yes sir. Willy will do that sir.' and the elf was gone, leaving two of them alone again.

He had to leave. He started walking to the door. 'See you at the dinner mother.' He said without looking at her.

'Draco,' Narcissa sounded thoughtful...

He turned just upon reaching the door. Narcissa looked at him for a few moments without a word; her eyes still held the strange expression that Draco couldn't decipher.

He almost expected her to threaten to throw Potter out, or perhaps instruct him to behave and maintain his dignity when dealing with the unworthy scum.

Her eyes glistened in a clean pale blue as usual. It did when she was too concerned about him, he had noticed. Draco could see that she was having an argument with in herself.

'Nothing.' She said staring back at her book.

* * *

><p>Draco started working his feet along the stairs and corridors towards his suite. His thoughts overwhelmed him so much that he began feeling fuzzy in the head. His brooding over the first half of the day in his mother's suite really hadn't helped. It had been almost two and a half years since he'd betrayed Potter, and this would be the first time he'd face him since. What would he say? To make it worse, he knew Potter had been to hell and back in the last five days. Potter had had lots of 'leisure' time with the most deranged of all the death eaters. How far past his limits had he been taken in that time?<p>

And beyond all that – beyond his dread in meeting Potter another matter kept itching in his mind. What if all this become an utter mess? Draco hadn't planned for The Ministry to react so soon to the article. The public's interest hadn't yet grown; in fact he doubted the magical community even noticed. Surely The Ministry was trying to close the issue before anything got stirred up in the easy way. Even if the ministry witness spotted something wrong with Potter today, he would not have the immediate authority to act on it. It might be days or months before they took any action; which would give the Dark Lord time to ready his defences to keep Potter. Draco felt worried of what Potter might face should The Ministry mutt arriving today try to advice Lucius on the treatments on Potter. And even more worried when he thought of what Potter might face should the ministry continue on oblivious to Lucius' actions.

Draco had been thinking the entire morning and he had to come to a decision – a decision that might take all of his might to stick to. But he could not risk it, not when it so severely threatened all of them. They all were unprepared. He was too unprepared.

He must push through his reluctance to face Potter, and persuade him to play along. Potter must appear to be doing fine. He had to play it safe – or risk to making more mistakes. At least until he figured out what to do. Nicely done Draco - both Granger and the redhead told him that the ministry and the public have no interest in Potter whatsoever. If he'd listened he would have acted more carefully. Wouldn't Weasel kill him now!

Draco threw open the white double doors to his chambers and entered the lime and white suite.

He saw Goyle sprawled lazily across his white sofa making himself home. He seemed bored and almost sleepy, as if he was alone in the suite. As if the thin frame of Potter, who stood awkwardly and half swaying, warranted no more interest than perhaps a wilted plant left uncared for in the corner.

Draco regarded Potter, who hung shirtless and barefoot. His only clothing was a pair of tattered pants which were thoroughly torn and dirty. His hands were bound together and from his neck dangled a chain which was connected to a metal belt around his waist.

Had Goyle dragged him to the room like a dog?

Potters' shoulders hung low along with his gaze; the menacing scar of the dark mark prominent as ever on his back. The healed scar, carved in to his skin by Walden Macnair on the very day of Potters arrival to the Malfoy manor under the orders of senior Malfoy himself. Draco remembered the scene all too vividly in his mind, the scream, the blood and Potter's spiteful eyes. Now, the healed scar on past resistance icon's back was almost proof that the death eaters regime had taken over all that is possible. Draco wondered whether it hurt or burned Potter as usual dark marks did on Dark Lords' call.

'What took you so long?' Goyle said getting up. ' d'thought you'd be busting to get your hands on Potty here.' He yawned, rubbing his eyes. 'A—ll yo—urs no—w.' Goyle said, rising lazily towards Draco and removing a pair of black framed glasses from his pocket. 'See you scar head.'

Goyle placed the black framed glasses in Draco's hand and gave him a friendly pat on the back. Without stopping or a looking back Goyle disappeared out of the room, closing the doors behind him.

Draco looked at the unharmed glasses and tucked them inside his coat. Potter didn't move. Sighing and cursing to himself, Draco walked towards Potter and began freeing his hands, while trying to calm his own raising heartbeat. Draco could feel how weak Potter was. With the simplest pull his whole body shook and Potter's skin was clammy and pale. He didn't look up.

Without a word, Draco untied Potter's hands and used his wand to remove the metal belt around his neck. Beneath it he could see the considerable damage it had done to the skin around it. He worked Potter towards his private chambers so he could get clean, having to drag him by his arm. Potter felt so lifeless and weak in his hands and feverish. Draco stood him beside him while he filled the tub with hot water and the soap he usually used himself. Whatever he was about to do, first he would get him cleaned. Potter would surely be grateful if he was still sane to senses. He smelled, big time!

'Get your clothes off and get in the tub.' Draco demanded, checking the warmth of the water to keep himself busy and averting his eyes.

Draco felt Potter's eyes on him, though he was sure that Potter could only see his outline without his glasses. Potter stood like that for a moment before clumsily trying to comply, his fingers unsteady as in old age. He struggled with the buttons on the ragged trousers.

Sighing, Draco got up to help and unbuttoned his trousers, and for the first time he really looked at Potter, who immediately avoided his eyes. Draco noticed his green eyes, naked without the black frames they looked vulnerable and exposed. Draco wished he could see anger and stubbornness in them, yet he did not. Maybe Potter is a damn good actor or maybe the Death Eaters had truly squashed it out of him. He couldn't blame Potter if that was true, even with the little he knew of what happened in those dungeons.

Without resistance Potter untied his trousers and Draco noticed his unmistakable shiver, and he watched as Potter got into the tub and placed himself in a curled ball as if detached from his own body.

Draco's eyes start to wander over his body. Apart from quite a number of old healed scars around his skin – specifically the healed dark mark shaped one on all over his back- Potter's only new wounds were the ones caused by the shackles around his neck and wrists ( the shackles Draco removed). Potter did not have any other new markings or wounds.

But Draco knew why that was. Bellatrix and the rest were no fools. Whatever harm they inflicted on Potter physically had been healed when their sessions were over. Maybe to ensure that working on Potter didn't lose its appeal or maybe it was for situations exactly like this when they had to demonstrate that he had looked after appropriately.

'Should I add more warm water?' asked Draco wanting to hear his own voice. Potter didn't reply or show any sign that he heard Draco. 'You stink, Potter.' he said, taking the silver hand shower off its rack and running more water. Draco grabbed the soap and started to wash Potter, he didn't protest or make any move besides a slight tremble as Draco began to rub him and wash the soap off.

Potter was pale, Draco noticed, and thought to himself that it would be because all he saw for a year were the walls of the cold wet dungeon beneath Malfoy Manor. Images of Potter before the war with so much energy, laughter and words now haunted Draco each time he looked at what Potter had become.

Draco yanked the plug of the tub once when he had finished washing his long black locks.

'We'll have to trim this short and you need a shave'.

Draco handed Potter a white towel and let him wrap it around himself, still shivering. He sat on the covered chamber pot as Draco shaved his unevenly grown beard; eyes shut. Potter shivered with a still growing heat of a fever in his body. The warm bath did not cure it then. Maybe a potion for the fever and pains would do better then. Is Potter in pain? Draco wondered, but how pathetic would it be to ask considering the fact that Draco's father was the main cause for all the torture inflicted upon Potter. Potter looked so vulnerable sitting there with his head turned upwards towards him, as if he trusted Draco _again_. Draco's hand was steady with the blade as he continued to shave Potters' jaws yet inside his mind was hammering with a constant unease.

Half an hour later Potter sat on the crisp white sheets of the mahogany bed, washed, shaven and hair trimmed (though still draped only with a towel) looking much like the person he was few years back. Thinner, but at least clean and more human than the form that came in to Draco's suite an hour ago. Yet he looked uncomfortable sitting there on the white sheets – Draco's white sheets.

'Are you hungry?' Draco asked, Potter shook his head not caring to look at Draco.

Draco could barely control the temptation to shake Potter bodily until he broke out of the ignorant hollow mood he had gotten in to. Removing the black framed glasses from his pocket, he put the glasses besides Potter on his bed.

'I want you to take a nap. Sleep on the bed; it won't bite. Rest a bit until I get ready. You can't fall asleep or look tired at the dinner, Potter. Hope you understand'. He said feeding Potter a fever reducing potion and a pain potion just in case.

Draco left a still unmoving Potter to his brooding, feeling more irritated. When he returned after freshening up he saw Potter fast asleep on the floor beside the bed curled to a tight ball. His glasses still folded and untouched where Draco had put them. Like this, Potter looked so fragile like a child much younger than his true age. Maybe he was too malnourished for his years. Letting the guy sleep for few more minutes, Draco started dressing himself for dinner.

His usual high buttoned suit was somewhat of a uniform for him now. And he preferred black. His sideways combed silvery hair was slightly more uneven than he had kept when he was younger but gave him a unique look that differentiated him from the senior Malfoy, who always looked prim in every way. Where Lucius looked formal and stiff, Draco looked handsome and charming. The opposite of what he was once expected to be, nonetheless praised for being after. Slipping his emerald gold ring on his finger he was ready. Now, how to turn Potter into the one and only chosen one he once was.

'Potter, wake up. Potter,' Draco shook the guy on the floor slightly feeling guilty for not letting him sleep earlier.

Potter does seem to need a good long sleep. '... Potter.' Green eyes opened slightly pained by the light. 'You have to get ready.'

Draco made Potter wash his face again and brush before dressing him up. He had chosen a black suit with a black tie and shoes for Potter. Is he getting obsessed with the colour? With his paler complexion and jet black hair, black would suit him fine.

As before, Potter let Draco do as he pleases with his body, complying with everything he asked. Had Draco asked Potter to apply red lipstick he would have done it without hesitation. He let Draco play with his hair to tame it (apparently Draco had not cut it as short as he thought), apply a glamour charm to his wrists and neck to cover the welts, and added toner to the bags beneath his eyes. But as Draco tried to put on the black framed specs, Potter took a step back, looking at Draco directly for the first time. Draco paused.

'Can I stay without them?' he said in a small voice looking down again.

'Don't you want to see?' Draco asked still holding the glasses to Potter's eye level. Potter's lips forcefully turned upward for a painful smile. His eyes were soggy as he looked up and nodded almost as if he accepted defeat. Draco slid the glasses on to Potters face, adjusting them. Potters eyes slowly readjusted to the world through them. He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment looking down, and as he opened them again Draco saw the green eyes become hardened... _the ever bottled up hero_. Draco thought with an inward sigh.

Potter almost looked the same as he looked before the peace pact. Clad in black he looked handsome. Draco always thought Potter had this look about him, vulnerable yet strong, genuine but mysterious, sharp but damned. You could have added wings and he would have looked like an angel from heavens with his righteousness – the ultimate saviour. But above all, now he looked haunted. No matter how many glamour charms he added, the shadows of his endurance were hard to erase.

'Potter, we need to talk.'

Saviour or not there won't be any one to save Potter today if he mess this up.

'Potter,'

Potter looked up to Draco, like it was the hardest thing to do at the moment. 'Do you know what this is all about?'

Green eyes regarded him with a void of irritation. He should have slapped him for looking at him like this. But Draco thought better of it, controlling his anger realising it had nothing to do with Potter looking at him.

'The Ministry has sent some goons to supervise your stay here, and to find out why you were transferred here from the Dark Lord's residence in Bristol.' Potters expression did not change.

'As you must understand there must not be any slipups that would lead them to suspect that the treaty was jeopardized in anyway... do you understand?' _Is he really saying this?_ Draco bit his own lip.

Potters face looked even more hollow. 'I, - I know that - ...this is unfair on your side – yet the other end will do more harm to you than good.' _and it will endanger your friends as well_. 'Tell them you prefer the Malfoy mansion and that you requested to be transferred here. That the Dark Lord was often busy and that you preferred company – the company of your friend from your school days... and the resistance... me.' Draco forced himself to look at Potter while he talked. He might as well take accept responsibility for his actions. It was the least he could do.

But Potter looked unaffected with an unmoving expression. Draco would easily have bought it if he hadn't looked down at that moment to see Potter's hand trembling. He looked back at Potters' face, overcome with sympathy. He put his hand on Potter's shoulder, almost brushing the back of his neck. Draco could now see the slight shudder in Potter's lips and the heightened rhythm of his breathing. He drew closer, filling his nostrils with the smell of Potter's bath and newly pressed material. He sighed deeply to control his own breath.

'I'm sorry.' he said close to Potter's ear, releasing him and walking passed him. 'It's time – we have to go.'

Draco pulled opened the white mahogany door leading to his bed chamber and waited. Potter took few moments, standing there unmoving. When he turned, Draco saw the stoic expression on Potter's face. Potter walked passed, taking not more than a glimpse at Draco.

Potter let Draco open the main door out of the suite for him then walked ahead. Draco followed, passing the familiar rooms and parlours.

'Turn left,' he would point out and Potter would comply without question. When passing, the maids often stopped and stood aside stealing glances at the one once known as the Boy-Who-Lived. They undoubtedly gossiped about him each day yet they were never normally set eyes upon him.

'He's all right!' whispered a plump maid to her friend as they both stood aside making the way with bowed head. Maybe they saw glimpses of tortured form of Potter while he was transferred in and out of Lucius's rooms.

'He looks so pale.' Another maid said to her fellow maids as they passed, maybe thinking Draco was a deaf. 'He's grown so much.' Draco heard them whisper among each other.

Of cause the most famous photo taken of Potter was the official photo of the Tri-Wizard tournament in their fourth year. People still saw the Boy-Who-Lived through that picture – not the man he had grown to be, grown with the burden of the weight they had made him bear.

They arrived at the ceremonial suite. Dinner would be served in the main dining room which catered to around hundred guests. But today they were only expecting twenty. Two ministry officials, senior Malfoy, Potter, Draco, mother plus the top ranked Death Eaters who had hawk eyes on their pray.

'Next double door to your left,' said Draco looking at the two guards standing outside. 'I guess everyone is seated already, waiting for our arrival, it's almost six.'

Potter slowed his gait, stopping a few feet before the guard, who bowed his head to Draco. Potter turned sideways, leaning back towards the wall, looking unsettled. He pressed his head to the wall, emanating a soft thud. He closed eyes.

''Who else is invited?' Potter's voice was calm.

'The inner circle – you know who, and my parents.' Draco looked at him worriedly, 'Potter, are you ok?'

Potter opened his eyes and regarded Draco in a questioning glare. And with just a moment's delay, he straightened and resumed walking towards the entrance. The guards pushed open the heavy doors and Potter entered the oversized dining room.

Draco followed, tensed.

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><p><em>AN: Well that was a bit long one and it took me some time to really finish. Though I've been having the scene for a long time it was not that easy to write. So will next two chapters be. Do comment and let me know what you think of the chapter. And what will happen next. Will Harry be able to handle the gathering? What would Draco do next? I'm open for guesses._


	6. Sitting on a Frying Pan

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is a property of J.K. Rowling. All copy writes received by her. I'm just trying to get this story out of my head... **

Title : **Penance for Failure**

Summary: **War hero turned a war trophy as the resistance fell. Draco Malfoy urges a bitter Ron & a pregnant Hermione to help him in an impossible quest of saving the saviour. But it won't be easy with everything falling to darkness in a twisted way. Angst/torture/M**

Pairing : Ron/ Hermione, Harry/ Hermione, Harry /Multiple

Warning: **_This story contains angst, violence, and sexual situations. RATED M + (warning for angst!)_**

**_A/N: UPDATED CHAPTER!. Sorry about the Slow uploads. My Beta also got busy and this is the last chapter she did. So this chapter is NOT completely beta-read. Hope you can forgive any mistakes. _**

...

_Previous _

_''Who else is invited?' Potter's voice was calm._

_'The inner circle – you know who, and my parents.' Draco looked at him worriedly, 'Potter, are you ok?'_

_Potter opened his eyes and regarded Draco in a questioning glare. And with just a moment's delay, he straightened and resumed walking towards the entrance. The guards pushed open the heavy doors and Potter entered the oversized dining room. _

_Draco followed, tensed. _

...

The Manor grand dining room was an extensive one. The guests were seated in the far end to the entrance. Draco heard the voices come to a halt as the two of them entered. All eyes turned towards the one Harry Potter... the famous chosen one knew how to make an entrance. Potter forced his feet forward, towards Lucius. Draco looked towards the head of the table to see his father, sitting in the head chair, who gave him an approving and satisfied smile. He seemed Happy with the way Draco presented Potter. His mother did not look at him but watched Potter with an unreadable expression. She had taken the seat as the hostess next to Lucius and a Ministry representative.

_Percy Weasley and Trinity Lawrence, _The Ministry representatives. Draco sighed almost seeing what he expected. They were both politicians who had not so friendly acquaintances with Potter and held high positions in The Ministry now, after the war. They had a history of doing anything under the sun to protect their carriers in The Ministry. No wonder The Ministry sent them. Weasley and Lawrence would do nothing that would go against ministry decisions. Draco still remembers the disagreement Percy Weasley had with rest of his Weasley clan often resulting extended fights between Molly Weasley and her other sons when Draco was with the Order. Draco wondered if Percy ever searched for his living members of the family after the peace pact taking the fact that only few survived.

Lawrence, Draco had met only once, while Potter stuck in an argument with some ministry goons when they were all in Order Headquarters regarding some secretive operations carried by the Order without The Ministry's consent. He had heard a lot about Lawrence's grudge over Potter. Lawrence's only brother had died in a mission while protecting Potter's double – a defence tactic Lupin came up with for much of Potters' protest- leaving Potter cranky with the guilt for weeks. Lawrence never did seem to let go of the fact that his brother died in vain and blamed Potter openly for the death. And she argued stating Potter is reckless and ignorant about the lives that are not close to him.

Seeing her here now, Draco hoped that Potter's really on his guard because Lawrence had a history of infuriating Potter siding with the ministry.

Potter seemed to intentionally avert the unblinking eyes of the black cloaked clan who filled more than half of the occupied table. Avery, Goyle senior, Macnair, Nott senior, Yaxley, Trevers, Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan - nine death eaters apart from father...Draco counted. Bella, who sat next to her sister, looked at Potter almost sarcastically, yet Draco could see shades of unhealthy interest in his aunt's gaze. She licked her lips with her eyes hung on to Potter. He could never fathom the mania aunt Bella had for Potter.

'Ever the celebrity, Mr. Potter,' said Lucius with a sly smile which made Potter look at the head of the table. 'I'm sure you know Mr. Weasley already.'

Percy Weasley stood up and offered his hand for a hand shake with the most methodical expression in his face. Potter hesitate a moment before he shook the hand with the red head.

'Percy-' Potter mumbled as he shook the hand for the briefest moment with his usual hollow expression. Lawrence shook Potters hand too but they hardly made eye contact.

Lucius directed Potter to the chair next to him, opposite to Percy Weasley. Draco sat next to Potter facing Lawrence. The first course was served in silence, and Draco noticed Potter looking at the glimmering silverware absently. He touched the emerald stoned knives and forks on the sides of his plate as if he simply missed things in life as cutlery and dining. His hand shook as he picked up a fork.

'You look well, Mr. Potter,' said Lawrence sounding almost like an old aunt, 'seems the northern weather is better for you.' Her smile was a far fake for Draco's likings. There was a silence.

Potter just stared at her for a moment.

'I'm well. Thanks.' He mumbled.

'Why shouldn't he look well?' Bellatrix pried in, her eyes moving from Lawrence to Potter arrogantly. 'Do you think we chain Potter to the dungeon wall in dark and fry his meat with fire –ir-ons?'

Lucius coughed and Rodolphus gave a murderous look sideways. If in a different situation Draco would have actually amazed by his aunt's obsession.

Percy kept his stiff gaze on Potter while Potter returned the look in a hollow manner but didn't utter a word.

'What I meant was that-' Bellatrix tried to continue.

'What she meant was exactly what it said.' Lucius cut Bella curtly. 'Mr. Potter is doing well and sound as you can see.' He continued as he helped himself with an oyster. 'I'm sure ministry will look after this false matter without much time wouldn't it, Mr. Weasley? As we were discussing, this is a dim act with aim to risk the achievements we've made as a pure magical society'

'Of course, Sir,' Lawrence said. 'The Minister of magic himself is aware of the situation. The Ministry had always _only_ tied ties with trustworthy alliances with better judgement. We have no doubts over your treatment regarding Mr. Potter. This is just protocol.' She said matter of factly.

.

Draco could just stare at the way she arched her eye brows importantly, as if she held the most demanding position of protecting the ministry. Draco was now definite that The Ministry just wanted to close the affair as soon as possible. Eyeing Potter, he saw him passing the food in his plate absently as if they were talking about someone else.

- Weasley nodded as in agreement.

'As I informed in the beginning, we just want perspectives from Mr. Potter as well, to fill in the documentations and close the case. _Whatever_ he would say will be in reports. Hope you don't mind discussing over dinner, Mr. Potter.' Percy said chewing a mouthful. Weasley's pressed the word '_whatever_' to the unease of the most seated in the table, Draco was sure. Manipulation was never a Weasley family craft. Draco wondered how long Percy Weasley had to practice the face he was putting now.

There was a silence with everyone's eyes on Harry again – Draco hoped to see that happening a lot today. The sudden silence made Potter look up at the faces and realize he was expected to answer.

'No.' He said looking at Weasley. Potter's voice was calm and but the glare was unmistakable. Potter returned his attention to the plate and the mix of food he made with the fork.

'I hear you enjoy riding around the manor gardens, Harry. How do you like the neighbourhood?' Weasley tried a casual subject, maybe to ease the awkwardness of the table. But it was as bad as it could get. Draco just stared. _Riding? Potter? Who came up with that idea?_

'tss fine...' Potter did not look up. It was clear that he was not interested in small talking Weasley.

'Did you ever get lost? He has a tendency to go wandering around, if you should ask me.' Percy said casually again still trying to make it a friendly conversation. 'When I was the head boy in Hogwarts, I got plenty of complains from the Gryffindor students because he lost much house points.' Draco somehow felt Percy wanted to mention about his Head prefect-ship than Potter wandering around.

'hmm' Senior Malfoy raised an eyebrow helping himself with the food as he was interested. He just wants this to be over with, thought Draco.

'Why he picked that trail even after,' Lawrence added with a sneer, glancing at Potter in a smirk.

'The Ministry had a hard time tracking him for his own protection in the war days because they hardly got the right details. Hope you are keeping an eye on his riding paths so The Ministry won't be blamed in any case.'

Draco suddenly heard a light clutter to his right. Potter leaned back in his seat or rather pushed himself back. _Patience Potter, _Draco thought with a nag of a feeling. Potter had made a colourful mix of the starters in the plate. He was not planning to eat it, right? Draco thought disgustedly.

'Don't worry yourselves, Ms. Lawrence ...' Lucius said, 'Mr Potter here is very well looked after. Draco keeps him company whenever he can. Don't you Draco?' he gave expectant smile to Draco.

'Sure, whenever I have time', said Draco as politely as he could manage –

', always a pleasure to look after The Dark Lords' interests.'

'That's glad to hear indeed, Mr. Malfoy.' Lawrence said 'We know of your efforts to support the peace in the country. I read your impeccable article in the Daily Prophet last week. You've really made your points on the importance of same blood status marriages, I must say'. Lawrence sounded as if she had been following all his articles. 'You should consider a carrier in the ministry, Mr. Malfoy. Ministry needs young pureblood ideologists like you, who have not been corrupted by the simple minds of past decade.'

'I would stick to my role as a speaker for the pure blood regime and The Dark Lord himself, Ms. Lawrence. I have no interest in power games as you'. Said Draco almost irritated at her too friendly tone as if she held all the interest of him in her heart for a long time. Merlin, she was annoying.

'Well why not, honey?' said Bellatrix with almost adoring eyes on him. 'You could have set a great example for not getting carried away by the ridicules of youth and too much of public phrasings like Mr. Potter here.'

'Well I think he's free to choose his path by himself, Bella'. Said Narssica letting her voice heard this one time. Why she thought she should defend him for this false matter, Draco did not understand.

'Thank you, mother' he said politely, edging her that it was unnecessary, but with a small smile.

'Well I personally think Mrs. Lestrange and Ms. Lawrence have a point,' pried Weasley, holding his methodical stare again.

He reminded too much of Ginny Weasley to Draco. She used to mimic her older brother to annoy the twins the time they were in the Order, whenever they got together to spend the little rest time they had. Draco wondered whether it was as same for Potter, with the note that he was involved with her romantically.

'You have been with the crooked members of the so called Order Of The Phoenix, have seen their daft ideas and where they led our society. But you came out of them without being corrupted yourself. You set a great example for a true pureblood wizard, Mr. Malfoy.'

Draco was not sure whether their intention was to agitate Potter or to agitate Potter in front of Lucius and the gang to gain their favour. But for the sake of maintaining the ground Draco went with it, though the last thing he wanted was a discussion of his political carrier with a two thick headed scum bags. Whatever affect these nips had on Potter, he did not show. He just smiled dryly to his plate as if the irony was on the food. But Draco knew that Potter was far from being impassive by them though his poker face was quite strongly set.

Potter avoided almost all conversations going around the table, only just answering whenever he was asked something. Even then, he limited his words to a one or two. But he was regularly subjected to passing indirect jokes and snide comments nonetheless.

Potter hardly ate anything at all, Draco noticed. He wished he had given Potter something to eat earlier.

...

Miles away, in the poor flat of Hogsmade's deprived corner, Ron entered to his and Hermione's worn-out compartment. It had been somewhat a profitable day for Ron as the herb shop owner he works for had granted him a bonus due to his wife's birthday. So he had been able to buy a new blanket to replace Hermione's torn and worn one which she tries to wrap herself in colder nights. The item had left him penniless again with nothing to add for their savings but he was glad none the less. He was in a fairly good mood.

Placing the bags on the unstable table he looked at Hermione who sat on the mattress with her knees drown in.

'Hey... what's wrong?' he asked reaching her. Two envelops, one sealed and the other torn open lay next to her. Envelops bore the ministry crest and they were addressed to them separately. Hermione had opened her one. She looked at him, her face looked troubled.

Ron's mind clouded ending his good mood right there. Had they found out? Are they going to be thrown in to Azkaban for treason? No, cannot be. If they knew about the pictures and the connection they would not bother sending letters but an army of masked and black hooded murderers.

'They have called in for inspection,' Hermione said flatly. '...again.' She added picking the open letter and dropped it near Ron. He looked at the promptly printed letter with his heart pounding slightly.

_No.16, second floor,_

_Cinderside Flats,_

_Left Hogsmade._

_Dear Mrs. Hermione Weasley,_

**_Notice of interrogation under the 269 decree of peace and safety of the honourable pureblood regime _**

_We, under the responsibility of safety and peace of our community hereby demand your presence for the inspection along with sixty eight (68) other bodies with a history of violence against the society. You would be required to produce accurate information on your wealth/number of family members/expenses/acquaintances and re-register under the decree of 269._

_ Inability to comply or your absence for the interrogation will name you as a threat to the peace and safety of the people and a traitor to be exterminated, while your any acquaintances will be responsible for participating treachery. _

_Date & time: 24th August 10:43 am_

_Hoping you are well,_

_Lizaruss Thicken_

_Department of Magical Law Enforcement & safety_

_Ministry of Magic_

Ron looked at Hermione who had her eyes fixed on his face this time.

'Twenty forth...? That is in three days.' Ron blurted.

Hermione's hand shook on her belly. She looked pale and scared.

'They'll find out...about the pictures... and about the baby',

She said in a small voice, almost brokenly. '...and they'll know we hid my condition... about the baby in the last interrogations. If they examine they'll learn the truth.'

Tears broke out from her eyes which, Ron was sure, were trying to spill out for a long time before he came.

'We don't have Remus this time...', she forcefully wiped her eyes unwanted tears '...and we don't have anyone with a wand to turn to either,... to do the charm again.' She looked at him wearily.

'You can say you knew something like this will happen,' her eyes welled with tears again. 'I'm sorry... I ... I didn't think...'

Ron sighed and sat on the Mattress. He felt tired... tired even to be angry at her.

'**Hermione, it's... it's not safe to do the charm this many times.' His voice sounded fogged like his thoughts. ' It'll affect the baby if we delay him again. We delayed him for almost one and a half years now**.' ***

'There won't be a baby if they find out Harry's the father. They'll use veritaserum. They'll know! And they'll kill us all ... or worse'. Hermione kept wiping her eyes.

Ron looked at the letter again. Hermione was panicking and she had every right to be. It was not only the fact that they had sent Harry's pictures to the paper but it will come out the fact that they had hidden Hermione's pregnancy, which will undoubtedly be a crime for a mudboold and a blood traitor – Not registering the lines of their families as they were supposed to. And if they use veritaserum, they will find each and every tiny fact about the baby they hid from the authorities for so long. Ron could not imagine what The Ministry or the Death Eater clan will do to a future offspring of an icon they worked so hard to erase from their community.

When Hermione first found out about her pregnancy two weeks after Harry's surrender, it left both of them over the edge and heart broken in more than one way. Ron could not have explained the fury and devastation he felt, yet after so many arguments tears and explanations both of them agreed on the one fact. The fact that they need to survive and they need the last piece of Harry to survive.

So they were ready to go to any extends which will clear them a path for it.

With the help from Remus they charmed Hermione's womb, buying them more time.

But the time has passed, now Hermione's belly was visible than ever with almost seven and half months womb. For Merlin's sake, Ron did not know what to do. With the fact that Remus was no more and they had not had contact with any other trustable wand holder for more than a year. There was no one they could turn to for help.

Ron leaned back resting his aching head on the mattress and looked at the spider web filled grey roof. It looked like a grey fog covering the whole roof. He felt wearier.

Hermione sighed.

'I know you think this is my fault...' she said in a small voice again.

Ron exhaled rubbing his eyes almost sloppily

'...You were the one with brains out of two of us, Hermione..., couldn't you guess this will blow up on our face?'

He did warn her, maybe not out of pure wisdom. But he did, didn't he? He knew Malfoy meant nothing but trouble. 'The slimy Ferret made us to the dirty work while he sat comfortably in his bloody Manor. Hoping it will go wrong I'm sure...'

'We need someone with a wand... someone trustable... do you think Mal-'

'Please don't get me started, Hermione.' Ron felt a sudden bitterness rising even hearing the thought of the git. 'He's a fucking bloody turncoat. He was the cause for all this.'

But Ron did not have the heart to scream at her, though his every sane thought told him to be furious for even thinking about it, a tiny part of his inner mind knew Malfoy was the only one with a wand who knew even a half of their situation to ask for help.

All their poor neighbours, landlords and his employer did not even know who they really were, that they were the very friends, the closest of the condemned leader of the defeated side. But the very thought of the slimy ferret agitated him. Asking for the arrogant git's help, let alone telling the poof of the true situation of Hermione's pregnancy did strike Ron as taking a step back from his stand with the slimy jerk.

Hermione said no more. And Ron kept on gazing at the grey spider webs covering their roof.

...

In the Malfoy manor grand dining room, Weasley and Lawrence bragged on with their blabbering on behalf of The Ministry until the last course without much incident. The focus on Potter was willy- nilly, asking him nothing important than his false riding habit. But they casually threw Potter and the Order's names with snide comments in round conversations as if Potter was not there. The black clad clan apart from Draco intensely fuelled these sessions regularly laughing with their mocking jokes.

Potter seemed to be in his own world for the most of it. Almost as if he was not there. But sitting just next to him, Draco knew Potter was hearing every word of it. This might be one of those chances where people around him discussed what is going on in the wizard world, apart from abusing him. So Potter must be listening intensely, thought Draco.

Draco was sure that Potter did not much like the things he was hearing about the world, or the people he gave his life to save. Potter could not help betraying his controlled agitation through his clenched jaw, lined brow and gripped fists time to time, though his poker face was well formed.

Draco did not think enduring the news of the deaths of some of his close friends, like Lupin and Luna was easy in this situation, or hearing their names thrown in with snide remarks and jokes. Specifically not the way they hunted Lupin while he was in his transformation, cut down as a vile creature – described by Weasley with too much of details.

More than any harsh comments came from the black clan – most of the time Bellatrix in particular – Potter seemed to be effected by the remarks from Weasley and Lawrence. Draco could not blame Potter because after all Potter was here only because he chose to save them and go ahead with The Ministry's peace pact itself. His supposed alliance was mocking him and his family in front of his enemies. Who would not fume?

'Tell us, Mr. Potter,' started Lawrence again, after a long session of words on Hogwarts admissions and how it had improved since The Dark Lord had directly involved in selections, (Potter had remained as still as a statue throughout the whole discussion - Draco noted that Potter had not known about The Dark Lord using Hogwarts admissions to track the whereabouts of the muggle-born children)

', how long have you been here now?' Lawrence dug in to her honey desert greedily.

'You tell me.'

Potter did not look at her but kept raking his blueberry topping with a fork. His light response and almost sarcastic tone set a not too friendly silence over the table, again.

Lawrence stiffed with an arched eyebrow.

She surly did not expect Potter to sound so cynical at her in his status.

'I'm sorry, but have you been enjoying the hospitality of the Malfoy manor for too long that you've forgotten the count of days, ?' her tone was defensive and arrogant as if they were in a middle of an argument.

Potter did not answer, but smiled at himself sarcastically, still raking his desert. It agitated Lawrence more.

'I must say you have not been too corporative with this interrogation from the beginning, Mr. Potter.'

She said putting down her spoon. 'It's with the highest regard on our magical society and hard earned peace that The Ministry and the lordships here are going through this situation. We at The Ministry would not let you or your backups jeopardize this!'

She almost screeched with a red face.

Potter stared at her face directly, his smile replaced with a coldness. It was almost threatening.

'I'm sorry I lost the count of days, Ms. Lawrence, but it was hard for me to see the calendar in the dungeon while I was chained to the wall in dark, getting my meat burnt with fire irons.' his tone was more sarcastic.

Lawrence looked taken aback as well as Bellatrix, who had her earlier words used by the same person she was trying to ridicule. Angering Bellatrix was not a wise thing, especially for Potter. Potter lowered his eyes again, much for Draco's relief.

Room went silent again with several dumbstruck eyes gawking at Potter, especially Weasley's and Lawrance's. _Bad move Potter, _Draco thought uneasily, _a very bad move_.

Senior Malfoy laughed suddenly as if to break the ice.

'Oh please - Mr. Potter is merely joking, Ms Lawrence. He hates small talk as you know, and _Hogwarts_ is a touchy subject. Isn't it, _Mr. Potter_?' his tone on Potter's name almost matched his icy stare in Potter's direction.

'It is.'

Potter said curtly not looking up at Lucius. Draco could tell his father was furious inside for having to let Potter get away so easily. Only the determination to pass the night without a mess must be controlling him.

'Hope it's not too hard to recover from the emotional trauma, Mr Potter.' Bellatrix pried sending daggers with her stare at Potter. Potter did not answer nor looked up.

Weasley straitened in his seat. His face could not have looked more methodical and stiff. He looked directly at Potter as if he was there to give a lecture on table manners.

'Potter,'

he sounded as if he was only talking to Potter, 'I would like to be direct and address an issue of concern.' He said in a tedious voice.

He put down his spoon and wiped his mouth in with a napkin in a precise manner. He almost sighed before beginning.

'Remembering the fact that _YOU_ agreed on the peace pact and went on with it, do you wish to withdraw from it?'

The silence was almost overwhelming as much as the irony of the question, as Draco felt. Potter had stilled his eyes on Weasley's face without any other movement. His eyes looked slightly reddish as if he was feverish and suddenly looked tired and older than himself. He seemed grim and dismal than ever.

'No.'

He said looking down at the table, his voice much dryer than he looked.

Bellatrix snorted with her eyes fixed on Potter.

Weasley nodded as if he registered something in his head...

'Then, why were you transferred here, Mr. Potter... to the manor?'

his eyes were calculating Potter and looked almost ominous.

Potter smiled again but instead of sarcasm this time Draco could see hollowness or maybe an admittance of defeat in his eyes. Did Potter remember that he was in no position to fight anymore?

Draco was almost surprised at the smooth way Weasley was operating this. His normal dumb and too enthusiastic aura had indeed replaced with deceit of a politician. Maybe he had practice in the ministry over the years. He kept tightening the already tight noose around Potters neck making it look like as if it was Potters free will to wear it.

Potter kept his gaze down at his silver desert spoon as if he suddenly found it fascinating. He did look ill to Draco in this way, instead of all Draco's healing potions.

Maybe his fever had not gone down as Draco thought.

'Potter?'

'I ... I requested to ... to be transferred here,' He said with an unsteady gaze 'I didn't have much to do there.' his voice was calm but eyes strained as if he has too much of sleepless nights 'it's peaceful here and I... _Draco_'s here... I've known him since school. Thought I could... could use some company since I have nothing to do.' Potter smiled but it hardly reached his eyes.

_Draco?_ Did Potter really use his first name? Draco looked at father who had his eyes on him. Lucius winked almost nodding.

'So... we are on a false case here after all.' Lawrence said in a forced merry mood as if everything was solved, as if what is left was to enjoy the food.

'Your lordship has been kind to accommodate us none the less.' she almost bowed her head to Lucius and to Nassica. Lucius smiled back at her with a smile.

'We have always supported The Ministry in their sensible tasks, Ms. Lawrence. Do enjoy some more wine. It's a good year.' Lucius singed the butler to pour.

But Weasley was not finished, Draco noted. He quietly went in to his dessert, faking his impatience with eating until Lucius and Lawrence finish.

'Mr. Potter,' Weasley started as the table fell silent again ',I hope you understand that The Ministry had worked hard for this peace as well as the gathering of purebloods, who have every right to eliminate the inferior bloods from this society they built.' he leaned back to his seat and looked sternly at Potter in front of him as a judge looking at a felon, 'you and your group lead this society to a chaos when you had free will, resulting dismay and ridicule. But we have granted you an easy way for redemption.'

Potter just kept his eyes on Weasley with his jaw clenched tight. A slight tremble ran through his hands as if he was cold, Draco noticed.

Potter looked almost flushed and intense. This is enough. Weasley must be a fool not to stop this now and call the dinner to an end if he needs to end this smoothly after playing Potter as he did.

Draco looked at his father who looked back at him. At least he had to come to senses and end this now when it is still on track.

They can't expect Potter to act along longer. Because Draco knew it's not humanly possible to be provoked and be calm about it like this.

'Of course'- Lawrence pried 'The Ministry had ensured your well-being with honourable Lord Voldemort's corporation. And it is by The Minister's tactful mind that we were able to make this peace pact a reality. All he, and the wizarding community expect from you is not to risk it again with your self-centred mockery, Mr. Potter.' Lawrence bragged in a scornful tone. Potter who had now gone almost livid stared at the insufferable woman in front.

'Even knowing the accusations on you being ill-treated to be false, The Ministry scheduled this visit because it is important for The Ministry to ensure that everyone in our community is safe and sound, including you, Mr. Potter. We have ensured...' –

'You all have ensured that our people had fallen down to levels that is humanly impossible!'

Potter said leaning forward with an unexpected move. his eyes gleamed in an anger which Draco thought unfeasible and his voice was deadly calm and steady.

Room fell silent again. All the black clan including Malfoy senior eyed Potter in suspense. Bellatrix looked as if she was ready to cruciate him. But unlike the previous time Potter did not look down after his words but stared directly at Lawrence who looked back at him defensively and uneasily. Weasley too looked alarmed.

'wha..'- Lawrence started again but was cut off by Potter again.

'If you got what you came for, I rather suggest two of you leave now.' He said not moving an inch in his chair.

'Potter, calm down' Draco whispered to him sideways wishing for Merlin that Potter would come to some sense.

But Lawrence did not seem to let it go either 'We have always prioritized the well-being of the people, Potter whether you understand it or not.' She pointed her ringed index finger at Potter as to intimidate. 'We signed the peace pact to' –

**'I SIGNED THE PEACE PACT NOT THE MINISTRY!'** Potter slammed his fist on the table and leaned more towards Lawrence. His face was in a fit of fury.

'Potter,' Lucius said warningly but Potter ignored the man completely continuing in a dead calm voice.

'I signed myself to dogs because it was the only way to save those people getting killed! Did you say you ensured the people's safety?

Tell me what else your Minister did than asking me to sign myself in to a pack of fanatics who were keen to slice me up for fun?! And what he's doing now, when kids are dragged to slaughter houses because their so called blood was not pure enough?!'

Weasley stood up and leaned forward to Potter clutching the table edge, his forehead lined and eyes strained. 'Are you saying that we dragged you to a fate that'-

**'I'M SAYING THAT I BLOODY CHOSE TO STOP THE WAR!**... disregarding whatever it cost me,' Potter roared getting up and looking directly at Weasley. He leaned forward, imitating Weasley who was facing him.

'Don't you dare twist it around as you have done with everything else!,' Potter said in a low voice ',I did what I could ,' Potter paused sighing , as if he was too weary to go on. ',what has The Ministry done so far to stop people getting killed after that, for the things they don't hold fault for?' Potter sounded pained and drained. He straightened himself and ran his hand through his forehead tiredly his eyes fixed on the table now.

'Go tell your Minister that I will handle whatever I can without the hypocrisy of you buffoons to clear The Ministry's name.' Potter said in a worn out tone. They both stared at each other, one high in tense and the other exhausted. 'Please leave' Potter said dismissively.

Black clan looked enraged but remained as they were, with Lucius's signal. Draco could see that father was dangerously calm. Would Potter be able to face the consequences for speaking out like this? Draco then looked at his mother who was looking down at her own hands on the table held as in a prayer. He had to get her out of here...

The room had gone still as if the gloom just before a thundering showers.

Then Weasley stepped back lightly still looking at Potters worn out face.

'The Ministry is setting up a press conference to stop the stir that was caused by the papers, among the authorities and the public.' Weasley said 'The ministry demands your participation to waver the matter, _Mr. Potter_. We will send the dates and details to the manor.' Weasley had lost his masks of a friendly face and the politician that now he looked tense. Potter released the table edge he was clutching and stared at the red head.

Weasley turned to Lucius whose inflamed eyes were glued in Potters direction unblinking.

'Thank you My Lord Malfoy for your hospitality and corporation. We will take our leave.'

He bowed lightly as Lawrence stood up too. She looked green.

'The Ministry will inform of the press conference in the future and of the interrogation report.' said Weasley again this time to the table averting Potters face until the end 'Lords and Ladies,... Mr Potter,' Weasley said in a small voice before bowing again and apparating out.

Potter just gazed at the void where Lawrence and Weasley disappeared, his face impassive again. Room had gone silent and static almost all eyes still on Potter. They reeked sheer anger and spite for the raven haired who stood amid the room.

Suddenly the head chair fell backwards to the floor as Malfoy senior stood up abruptly. He took a step forward, face still livid with rage. He forced Potter to face him roughly and backhanded him across the face with a spiteful force.

Potter fell to the rich emerald colour carpet like a rag doll...

...

**End note:** Well that took too much of effort to write. And the fact that my beta is not available for sometime is making it worse. But anyways I finished this after a bit of a struggle. What do you'll think?

Any reviews or guesses are welcome. Did I get the tension right?

Next chapter will be as hard as this one. Also it will be nasty.

**_Warnings for violence torture and abuse in the next. So if you cannot handle it or if you are underage please skip the next chapter..._**

**_** Also including Ron's and Hermione's part is my Beta's idea. You will hear more about Hermione and Ron later. Next chapter will be on Harry. Please R&R. Love your reviews._**


	7. Break me while I live

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is a property of J.K. Rowling. All copy writes received by her. I'm just trying to get this story out of my head... **

Title : **Penance for Failure**

Summary: War hero turned a war trophy as the resistance fell. Draco Malfoy urges a bitter Ron & a pregnant Hermione to help him in an impossible quest of saving the saviour. But it won't be easy with everything falling to darkness in a twisted way. Angst/torture/M

Pairing: Ron/ Hermione, Harry/ Hermione, Harry /Multiple

Warning: **_This story contains angst, violence, and sexual situations. RATED M + (warning for angst!)_**

_**THIS CHAPTER! **_ **** WARNING FOR ADULT THEMES/ RAPE/ TORTURE/ LANGUAGE AND ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING!** SO IF YOU ARE YOUNG OR IF THESE THINGS MAKE YOU UNEASY ... PLEASE SKIP THIS CHAPTER. **

**_A/N: well this took some time to update. Sorry about that. This chapter is NOT beta-read. Hope you can forgive any mistakes. Open invitation for a Beta reader..._**

* * *

><p><em><span>Previous <span>_

_Potter just gazed at the void where Lawrence and Weasley disappeared, his face impassive this time. Room had gone silent and static almost all eyes still on Potter. They reeked sheer anger and spite for the raven haired who stood amid the room. _

_Suddenly the head chair fell backwards to the floor as Malfoy senior stood up abruptly taking a step forward, face still livid with rage. He forced Potter to face him roughly and backhanded him._

_Potter fell to the rich emerald colour carpet like a rag doll..._

...

Lucius's sudden movement on Potter was all the other Death Eater clan needed to abandon their seats and gang up around the head of the table, making Draco and Narcissa to be the only people sitting.

'Mother, please leave.' Draco said as calm as he could to Narcissa who looked white and frightened. Draco did not think she would be able to endure the sight that was forming in this place.

'YOU ARROGANT FILTHY WHORE!' shouted Lucius from behind as Potter gasped with a sound of bone cracking.

Narcissa looked past Draco, and Draco followed her shaken eyes to see Macnair lifting Potter by hair, twisting and using it like a rope attached to his neck. Lucius struck him hard again and twanged his booted foot to Potters ribs making him wheeze.

Not waiting him to recover, Macnair dragged Potters to a keeling position again and Bellatrix slapped Potter in a _thwak_, making the glasses fly.

'I'm going to rip you to your bones you muck! You are going to pay for every word you said with your filthy hole of a mouth!' She screeched taking out her wand and waving viciously, with a furious curl in her lips. A metallic collar, almost same as the one Draco removed earlier, appeared around Potter's neck. Potter jerked almost choking; his hands flew to his neck.

Transfiguring her wand to a riding crop Bellatrix slashed it across Potters Face surely making an angry red mark over it. Potter cried out painfully.

'Leave, mother!' he almost shouted forcing Narcissa to look at him. She had become paler and her lips trembled. Narcissa for a moment stilled her gaze at Draco's face; her eye almost blurred in blue.

She stood up with a one last glance at Lucius's deranged face as he continued to slap Potter, firmly held by Macnair. Lucius screamed at him as he did.

Draco watched his mother leave with his heart pounding as abusive words kept raging behind him at Potter with occasional whip lashes. Narcissa did not look back until she reached the door in the far corner.

Draco did not get up from his seat and he did not have the heart to turn to see Potter being beaten near death. Instead he froze, wishing he could run away from this... yet could not. He picked up a fork and started raking what is left of the desert bowl to overcome his urge to storm out of the place or to storm at his father to stop turning Potter to a bloody pulp, as Potter did throughout the Dinner. Maybe it really helps. But he could not keep the sound out.

'How are you going to handle us you wasted fuck?! You told The Ministry that you are handling us?!' Roared Lucius and Draco heard Potter thrown down with a gasp, again.

'_Crucio_!'

And Potter cried out, maybe trying to hold in as much as he could because Draco could tell that the scream was too lower than Lucius anticipated. Maybe Potter was used to the pain it brings by now having lived almost two months in the Manor, or Potter was too determined not to scream.

But in the next minute a shiver went through Draco as Avery shouted '_Crucio_!'

Potter screamed, having been hit by the torture curse one top of another.

Potter twitched and twisted sickeningly as Draco looked back over his shoulder. He fixed his eyes on his desert bowl again trying to calm his thundering head.

He gripped the fork to control the shaking.

Curse was lifted after few minutes leaving Potter wheezing painfully. Draco pried another glimpse of Potter who lay on the floor, trembling and panting to breathe. His nose bled and the eyes looked shrunken.

**'You dare to open your mouth you bloody whelp!**' Lucius shoved his boot to Potter's side again earning a lifeless gasp. _Merlin, when are they going to stop? _

'Would you still have this arrogant little head of yours once I show what your real state is you little slut?' Lucius blurted cruelly. Draco could see Lucius shivering with fury.

**'Rip off his cloths!**' Lucius ordered almost sarcastic through his rage. Draco heard the materials tear with a swish of a wand.

No... No. No. No... Draco thought with a freezing panic. He closed his eyes and gripped in to whatever he held, though he could not see anything happening behind his seat. But he could not shut the sound out.

The laughter and the undue excitement, the humiliating words intended to cut down any honour left. The clattering surfaces and the sound of flesh hitting flesh with time to time heard echo of whips revolted Draco of the very existence of this overlarge and over decorated grand hall which stood in witness to all of it silently. Most heart wrenching of it was not any of it though..., but the very sound of pitiful low moans and painful sobs of distress which Harry could not help making any more.

Each gasp and each sob which could be heard under the crashes, vile laughs, words and curses, almost in whispers sounded louder in Draco's mind than anything else.

...

_**Four hours later**_ Draco stood in his private balcony staring at the starry sky. It was almost half past twelve but he was out of sleep. He could not sleep. The stars, the breeze, the dark and the tugging feeling in his mind and head brought back some memories of years back when he was in the head quarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

A one particular memory for the most, a memory of a jet black haired guy who sat on the floor beside the long window in the attic trying to talk Draco out of sulking over.

_The window was open and the cool wind danced on Potter's hair making it messier than ever. _

_'No matter what I do they won't cut any slacks for me, Potter. They think I'm going to drag you to hell with me...even Granger.' Draco had said._

_'They can think whatever they want, Draco. They are not bound to understand you ... nor what I do... or think.' He said in a calm voice. 'But that doesn't mean they are not in my side or yours now. Doesn't it?' _

_Potter did not look up to Draco who was sitting on the wooden table which creaked whenever he moved._

_Draco fell silent. The use of his first name by Potter was not something that he could easily get used to. But Potter used only that since he came here, maybe to make a point to Draco and others. Potter looked tired but he was in a light mood than he usually was. _

_'They don't trust me, not any of them!' he had had enough of whispered comments and following stares inside this house which was enough to drive him mad. He was used to people listening to him not suspecting him. 'How am I supposed to do anything to help if everyone keeps thinking I'm here on a spying party?' did not he sound like a complaining five year old then?_

_'You don't need people trusting you to do what you believe is right, Draco. What you need is you believing in your cause until you have enough nerve to stand for it no matter what. ' Potter said thoughtfully as if speaking to himself leaning over to the window sill, closing his eyes. _

_He must be tired taking the fact that he had returned just few hours ago after a mission of five days in Ireland. Draco was sure he has not rested yet._

_'Do you believe in yours? ,' Draco asked clasping his hands to rid the slight coldness caused by the night wind ', to even die for it?'_

_Potter looked at him sideways. Draco still remembered the radiance of the deep emerald green eyes on him with full attention drawn to him. He remembered feeling naked of his confused scared feelings in front of the very icon of the resistance, sitting on the floor like some ordinary man who just had to worry about getting the girl and getting the scores up in his job. He had felt exposed and inferior in front of the one he hated before and who had saved him out of all the odds._

_'Think I believe enough to live for them I guess' said Potter thoughtfully playing with his fingers. Draco could have sworn he saw a line of misery in Potters face._

Did Potter know then, that living for them would be much harder than curling up and dying? Did Potter really understand the plain fact he, himself was preaching to Draco all those years back?

Draco wondered while he clenched his blurry eye stubbornly.

...

_Three and a half hours earlier... _

If Draco thought bearing the sound behind him while turning his back to the scene was hard, he had been wrong. If he thought he could get away from this night with just the registered sounds of cries and laughter in his mind, he had been majestically wrong.

Once the Black clad clan got tired of the emerald green floor, marble walls and the cabinets to hold their prey as they exploit him, they threw him on to the table.

Potter's bare body hit where he sat moments ago with a thud and fell down to the floor again, right next to Draco. Draco only had seconds to poise his mind and frame an impassive expression to his face before the gang of Death Eaters flew in.

Macnair grabbed Potter's naked form and dragged him up to the table, laying his body half way on the table with feet dangling down. His once unmarked body was black and blue and red whip marks laced him neck to toe in a sickening pattern. His left hand was swollen in the wrist and from the way Potter held it, Draco knew it was broken. Smears of blood were visible through Potters nose and lips as well as inner thighs. His emerald calculating eyes were tear streaked. Draco remembered that Potter could only see a blur in front of his eyes now... just as he wanted –

Draco forced himself to look at the battered pale body and the set of vile men (and women) that crowded around him like a set of crows around a cornered mouse.

Positioning himself between Potters' dangling legs, Macnair let out a maniac laugh grabbing Potter's crotch in a one hand and the shoulder from the other covering the lean body easily with his large frame. Potter pressed his cheek sideways and fruitlessly tried to push the heavy body away from him with his unspoiled hand, struggling as much he was able to.

Macnair easily bent to Potters ear, almost touching the ear lobe with his tongue.

'The Ministry whored you to us boy. You are their bitch and they sold you so they can save their necks. No matter how you try to bark off we will gag you until you learn to take it like the bitch you are. Understand?'

The black clan laughed and some dog howled as Macnair bit down to Potter's collared neck. Potter groaned in pain, squeezing his eyes shut and letting tears streak down from the corners. His right hand no longer pushed the heavy frame on him but merely clutched to hold on.

'Potter the little bitch!' Bellatrix hummed in a tune sitting on the table in the opposite side. Her attention fully on Potter's distressed face. She popped open a bottle of red Vine and laughed gulping down few zips from the bottle still eyes on Macnair and Potter. Vine leaked from the sides of her lips, almost tempting Draco to lean back to his seat rest in disgust.

Draco could just watch as Macnair positioned Potter again, bending his legs without much protest. Fully clothed, he just lead out what is only necessary out of his robes and looked down at the naked lean body in front of him with vile lust. Bellatrix cackled louder than others as Macnair pushed in Potters' opening dry and raw. Potter cried as Macnair tried to push himself completely in a one stroke gripping to the pale hips. Bellatrix turned the vine bottle down to Potter's pain consumed face pouring the red liquid on his face. She laughed fanatically as he chocked.

Draco could just watch, forcing an impassive expression to his face though all he needed was to run out of this shameless scene. His insides hammered him consuming him in misery of having to endure the site.

Draco felt the chair next to him pulled. Lucius closed in and kept his dragon hilted wand on the table next to Draco's ruined dessert ball, his hands were smeared with blood, Potter's blood. But apart from that he looked his prim self. His eyes held a rage as he gazed at Potter's whimpering face. So his father had not participated on this open assault. Being the private person he was, Draco was not surprised that he merely preferred to be an onlooker than anything else. He had provoked and released his herd of dogs to do the rest.

'This will teach him...' Lucius said fuming, 'after all these days he still dares... the little bastard.' Lucius sat down mumbling. Beyond fury and hate Lucius's eyes held a sheer possessiveness as he kept on looking at Potter. As if he disliked the very fact that Potter was being touched by another. Was it possible that Lucius Malfoy had developed a feeling beyond his usual deprived sadistic domination over Potter?

Draco's attention went back to the table for the suffocating sounds of Potter as Avery and Nott started stuffing the remains of desserts to his mouth while Macnair quickened his pace.

Draco did not want to see this. The pathetic form of the once chosen one, battered and humiliated to be spread and fucked in to nothing. He did not want to see this...

Macnair climaxed inside Potter after hyped strokes and hard pinches in to his flesh earning pain filled sobs. As soon as Macnair was done Rabastan replaced him. He began stroking Potter as if to get hardness from Potters' limp member in vain. It would be a field day for them if he did. Yet Potter's battered and assaulted body did not budge. Potter just lay there panting letting them use his body like a play thing.

Being unsuccessful even after stroking licking and biting, Rabastan lost it. He started slapping Potter for not getting himself hard. Potter was then shoved face down and the Death Eater tried to mount him like some cheap item. The dark mark branded all over Potters back clashed strikingly with his pale skin. Consumed by lust, Rabastan rammed in to the pale body mercilessly earning whimpers but no more struggles. Potter shook pathetically as Rabastan pushed in and out. Others laughed and slammed insults on the so called saviour waiting for their turn.

Draco with much difficulty kept in to his stoic expression. He wished he was somewhere else anywhere else than here looking at this. Merlin, he needed a smoke... alone...

It went for hours and hours, painful never ending dragging hours. Potter, lay head down, cheek pressed to the Mahogany surface; his eyes opened in to a fog with broken lines of tears as men around him mocked him and used him. He no longer whimpered or moaned. His face was clammy and dead beat and his parted lips irrupted ragged breaths while his body moved to the rhythm whoever was mounting him slammed in to him without his permission.

Suddenly Lucius hissed under his breath to Draco's side, clutching his arm. And so did the rest of the Death Eater clan who were so occupied in their unruly act...

'Dark Lord...' said Lucius looking at Draco expectantly, as if he was waiting for Draco to feel the same burning sensation. But Draco did not. And Draco was glad.

'He won't be too happy.' Said Draco looking disgustedly at Goyle senior who pulled out of the battered body and let him fall down to his feet. Lucius looked alarmed and rest of them frightened.

Draco pushed his chair back and stood up. _Finally_

'Will see you in next week, father.' He said managing a yawn to prove his boredom. 'I'm going to Paris with mom tomorrow. She needs a break.'

Lucius was looked at his burning mark as Draco passed him.

Draco did not bother to look back... not even at Potter who lay motionless on the floor. It would have been the end of his well set mask of dullness and unconcern if he did.

He just walked out with a hum not looking back, as in a light mood himself.

Would Lucius order his Death Eater pimps to drag Potter's wasted body to the dungeon before leaving? Or will he just let the house elves do the job as he does with everything else? His mind was heavy and unresponsive with brutal scene he just witnessed and the pressure he put on to put up a poker face.

He pushed open the double doors with gritted teeth wishing he could kick and smash them in to pieces as he made out of the Grand Dining hall he so much hated.

He never felt helpless as he was feeling now before...

* * *

><p><strong>End note<strong>: well that was that... took time for me to finish. This is the first time I'm writing an open detailed scene like this in this story. So R&R. Love to know what you think of it. More to come... but excuse my delays.


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